


You'll Miss Me When I'm Gone

by AbysswalkerAstraea



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I, Dark Souls III
Genre: Ancient History, Attempted Sexual Assault, Character Death, Character Death In Dream, Confusion, Dark Souls (Video Game) References, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic Battles, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Dark Souls (Video Game), Loss, Memory Loss, Obsession, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poison, Violence, Wordcount: Over 50.000
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 69,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24868870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbysswalkerAstraea/pseuds/AbysswalkerAstraea
Summary: He was no longer needed to defend Anor Londo. According to Gwynevere, his fate intertwined with Eiras. "Of course, my Lady. I will do as you ask", he spoke tursely, disbelieving almost, yet obeying the goddess nonetheless.Regardless, finding his nameless Lord had been at the forefront of his mind. For now, he will cope with the human woman until the time comes where their ties are severed, and he is free.
Relationships: Artorias the Abysswalker/Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Chosen Undead/Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Chosen Undead/Lautrec of Carim, Chosen Undead/Rhea of Thorolund, Chosen Undead/Solaire of Astora, Chosen Undead/Unbreakable Patches (Dark Souls)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 43





	1. History

**Author's Note:**

> Well here we are. Thank u for the already existing kudos. I hope everybody enjoys ❤ 
> 
> This will be long. I've got 17 chapters ready with over 5000 words on each. So if you really like a story, yay! 
> 
> I felt at peace writing the majority of this. The themes of history, knowledge and adventure really did it for me. 
> 
> But be warned! Sadness ahead.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for being here ‧⁺◟( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ ) x

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eira, an intellectual Undead in search of knowledge and truth, hesitantly steps into the fog wall. 
> 
> What will she do when Ornstein does not listen to her reasoning? She'll leave, of course.
> 
> But what if on her way out, she drops one of her most prizes books - a book she had been working on for months? Time to face the duo once again.

Religion was a frequently practised thing, or at least it used to be. Now that the undead curse has struck again, the majority of people in Lordran were reduced to nothing but mindless beings. Eira, along with another name going by Patches, had survived a very long time. While patches lived to be unbreakable, Eira lived to help those in need, hence the orange hue surrounding her person. 

Being a sunlight warrior was her passion, her calling. She absolutely loved chatting with her sunbros, especially Solaire, who shared her astounding passion. But now, many of her brothers were long gone, and so Eiras purpose shifted slightly. Her purpose was to find the God who formed the ultimate covenant, in her opinion. The nameless king. Because, even she didnt know his name, no one had apparently heard it for a thousand years. She had an inkling at the back of her mind, a feeling that she knew him once, but alas, her memories were sketchy.

She refused to believe that he was outcasted for committing treason to Gwyn, she knew it was more. And if he had sided with the dragons, then she had a lot more to learn about them. Merely gaining that piece of knowledge had taken her to dangerous parts of Lordran, rummaging through ancient books. Thus bringing her to the fog wall to Anor Londos infamous duo, the Dragonslayer and the Executioner. She just hoped they would cooperate.

Meekly stepping through, her small frame trembled slightly at the eerie silence as she walked forward, glancing around in all directions warily. "Dragonslayer, I have come here in search of knowledge. Please, if you are still a knight, do not harm me", Eira squeaked out in fear, glancing behind her. 

With her eyes set behind her, she released a loud scream when her helmet hit a broad chest clad in golden armour. Scrambling backwards, she shrieked as a large hand gripped around her arm with bruising force, making her stare up with fear at the lion helmet. 

Eira stared up at the knight, her head coming to just below his mid chest, though she soon found she couldn't maintain eye contact with his helmet. Gripping his large hand with two smaller hands, Eira attempted to wrench his iron grip off her, panicking. "I didnt come here to fight or commit sacrilege to your sanctuary, I just...I need information", she mumbled softly, unable to even wedge a finger off of her. 

She felt his grip lighten considerably, though it was still firm. She guessed that meant he wanted her to continue. "I've come here in search of knowledge regarding the...", she hesitated, no one ever spoke of him. Would the Dragonslayer be angry too?, "The nameless king". Instantly the grip around her arm tightened painfully, perhaps a warning. She saw his other hand move slightly, and panicked. "W-wait, Please understand!"

Suddenly, a spear twice her height was brought out from behind, the tip crackling with lightning. Eira began to shake, now forcefully trying to tear her arm away from his grip. "Please dont! I know youre a Dragonslayer but i wish to learn more about dragons, and the nameless king, and even you and your timeline!", she shouted desperately yet honestly.

Though no matter what, nothing stopped the mighty Dragonslayer. Lifting his God like spear higher and angled down to her person, he drew his arm back further to strike. She had to resort to violence, of course, albeit unwanted. A ferocious fireball began forming in her hand, unleashing at his helmet. Eira took advantage of his loosened grip, and leaped away.

Eira stood her ground, her nervousness hidden behind a metal helmet. "Stop this! I have just stated that I do not wish to fight, you idiot!", she shouted with every bit of attitude, pointing at him. "Have you not seen the outside world? Everybody is gone, dead. People like myself seek goals to stay alive, and mine is to find my God!" She spat, crossing her arms.

All the time, the hunk of armour before her stood frozen, spear still raised, but stance rigid. Then slowly, he moved. He began walking towards her leisurely, though with an air of authority and confidence. She didn't know who the Dragonslayer was, why was he a Dragonslayer? Surely he worked under Gwyn? So many questions. 

As he approached with a terrifying, metallic sound scraping the floor and echoing in the cathedral, Eira backed away fully, now against the fog wall. "So you live to kill, then? Pity. I thought the Dragonslayer would have remained as he was, and not hollowed...", she trailed off sadly to herself, sighing.

Concentration failing as she pondered her next move, Eira barely noticed a second figure high above, staring down from the second floor. The Dragonslayer remained unmoved by her words, and looked up. Whatever blood was left in Eiras body froze as her gaze fell upon a grotesque, morbidly obese set of armour. The thunderous armour upon floor as he leaped down made her tremble, gripping her sword tightly. 

This thing was twice the Dragonslayers height, and far wider. It was unknown if it was the armour or the man that was large, but it was terrifying. But not as absolutely horrifying as the considerable hammer he wielded, easily able to pulverise her entire being in one hit. A deadly silence ensued as the two God like sets of armour stared at each other, the Dragonslayer appearing to stand with grace and poise, while the Executioner merely radiated brutality and a lack of knightly tendencies.

Eira took the opportunity to hide behind a nearby pillar, shuddering at the sudden, harsh breathing she could hear. Booming footsteps could be heard from afar, then a thunderous pummeling of feet upon the floor. Eira screamed as the pillar was smashed by the large hammer, leaving only a stump as she was lucky enough to be ducking that low. 

The giant of a man was terrifyingly fast, grabbing her and lifting her to his helmet as she fought to make him release her. Silence yet again, as though the man was sizing her up. Then, a moment Eira believes she will never forget, a traumatizing voice, but not before a deep inhale, a hum of delight, and then a raspy, deep and unsettling: "Meat."

Eira could smell a sickly scent of metal on his breath, eyes becoming frantic as she could see through a slit of his helmet, pure black eyes. He just called her meat. He wreaks of blood. Oh God-- But before a scream could tear through her throat, the Dragonslayer had released a deadly attack upon him, aimed at his arm and causing the Executioner to drop Eira unceremoniously. 

Scrambling to her feet, Eira ran to a nearby pillar and swiftly brought out a homeward bone, vanishing altogether. 

"We protect the cathedral, we do not eat trespassers", spat an authoritative voice, spoken with demand. The Dragonslayer retrieved his weapon from the Executioners arm, turning on his heel to return to his post. "You will do well to remember that."

Ignoring the smaller males demands, the Executioner strolled over to the far side of the cathedral, retrieving a fallen book from the undeads person. She must have dropped it. Been a couple hundred years since he even touched a book. "Curious human. It appears they truly do intend on finding our lost Lord.", muttered a dark tone, while the owner flicked over the pages of the book. Alas, the book was roughly thrown, which the Dragonslayer caught easily. A dismissive grunt was the Executioners only reply, then the golden armour disappeared. 

\--------

It was mere days before said undead reappeared again within Anor Londo, though dared not step within the cathedral, and in that time, the Dragonslayer had been kept occupied with the large, ancient book she had dropped. It spoke of Gwyn, his war against dragons, the few Dragonslayers forgotten in history, havel, seath, and the nameless king briefly. The first few chapters were theories of an old, forgotten scholar, while the last 7 chapters had taken on a new style of writing, perhaps that undeads. 

During the age of ancients, only Gwyn stood-- Wrong. Honestly, what had these scholars assumed? That gwyn lived in an age of darkness alone? False. Skipping a few pages, he settled on a chapter of dragons. This ought to be interesting. The battle against dragons caused mass extinction-- Wrong. It merely destroyed a large group of ferocious dragons, many more went into hiding, or lived solitary lives away from humans. 

The Dragonslayer frowned, there were so many mistakes in this book. Though, looking past a few pages, he noticed a newer looking page with descriptions about dragons, fixing the errors of the previous chapter. Was this undead perhaps gathering information to create a reliable book of history? In truth, no one will ever know true history, for not even he knew it. There were rumours of a time before Gods, but he can imagine many of them being exaggerated.

Reading on, he came across a few illustrations of dragons, knights, Gods. A drawing of similar armour to his, though more gothic and in silver, was drawn. He remembers that Dragonslayer, though his name is lost. He taught him many things, was alongside him during many achievements, but he never got the recognition he deserved. And then one day, he too became lost forever. No one knows where, no one knows why. 

The Dragonslayer spent many hours studying, remembering. Then finally, at the back of the book was small handwriting similar to the last 7 chapters. "I have lived through many eras, many centuries, and now i finally have a true purpose. I will find knowledge, truth and justice to find my lost God, and write history the way it is meant to be written - signed, Eira."

He'd be lying if he said this wasn't interesting. After God knows how long, someone appears before him with a quest other than gaining the Lordvessel. Still, he couldn't stray from duty. He'd have to kill her next time, no mercy like the time before.

\-------------

Weeks had gone by, and Eira had ventured to the lowest parts of Lordran, the swamps, where she found pieces of information on pyromancy, it's origins, Quelaana, and a very peculiar piece of information, one that would most definitely help write her history book, the name Quelaag. Supposedly, her mother was one of the souls to be granted fire during the age of fire. And, Quelaag was still alive somewhere in the depths of Lordran. Eira didn't chance speaking to a halt woman, half spider. It would surely end bad.

Not only that, but Eira had been pondering on Frampts words. He was an adviser, but still a serpent. A snake. And she had the inkling that maybe he wasn't as truthful as he proclaimed. Still, she had a lot more research to do. Though after witnessing the pyromancers with blindfolds, claiming to see true fire, true life this way. It certainly made her think. Darkness creates life, maybe? Who knows.

But she knew one thing. She needed to get her book back from Anor Londo. It had been there weeks, and after much thinking, she decided she could not live without it, literally. So, begrudgingly, she stood beside the large raven perched in the shrine, and flew on over. (A few rats certainly seems to persuade him).

Standing outside the fog wall, Eira wrapped her hand around her newly upgraded man serpent sword. Nothing beats a bit of endurance to wield the thing. Exhaling, she entered slowly, still fairly traumatised from her last visit. No matter, she'd retrieve the book one way or another.

As if on cue, the duo were in plain sight. Very plain, as surprisingly enough, the helmet of the Executioner was gone, a bloodied limb in his hand as he ripped the flesh off with his teeth. The Dragonslayer was sat stiffly, perfect posture and far away from the Executioner. Eira felt bile rise to her throat, eyes frozen on the grotesque executioner, mainly because these days it's rare to see anybody without a helmet -something to hide them. Though the half eaten limb did turn her sick. 

It was odd. His armour was gigantic, yet from his face he wasn't that large. He was definitely tall, and wide, but not as exaggerated as his armour would have you believe. His hair was black and short, and his vile face seemed to have many brutal scars. His eyes were black, like a shark, dead and watchful. And--he was staring at her. Straight at her, through her, mouth slightly agape, paused in his ministrations of eating, his disgusting teeth painted red. Eira froze, refraining from releasing any noise, or showing weakness in her stance. He wanted to..eat her, last time. Best stay away from him. 

Eira stood straight, glad her helmet hid her anxious and fearful expression. Her hand gripped her blade cautiously. "Greetings. I'm reiterating my statement from before - Im not here to commit harm to this cathedral. But i do believe one of you has something of mine, a book. I need it, then I'll be on my way.", she spoke swiftly, with a clipped tone, unlike last time. 

The executioners dead eyes bore into her helmet, silent. He stood slowly, hand reaching for his hammer. Eira grimaced, stepping back. "I'm not here to fight. Please, understand.", she pleaded with frustration, thinking of the various ways this could play out. But to no avail, he firmly gripped his hammer, blood and the stain of dark red, almost black, visible at the centre. She wasnt certain if she felt relief or dread at spotting the Dragonslayer finally drop down to the bottom floor, but she did take notice of the book in his hand. 

Stepping forward eagerly, she reached a hand out. "Yes, that book. It's mine, may I have it?", she tried to sound as polite as possible. In truth, something about the Dragonslayer scared her more than the Executioner. After all, his brutality was on display, while the Dragonslayers intentions were hidden. He made no movement, merely stood and watched her. 

Eira prepared herself for everything, stepping forward slowly, daring to walk towards him. The closer she got, the taller he became, until eventually she was to his chest, staring up at the snarl of the lion helmet. Extending her hand, she gently reached for her book, which was in arms lengths. Then jumped violently as the Dragonslayer moved to drop it into her hand, her heart pounding. 

Nodding awkwardly, she turned to leave, though stopped mid turn. The executioner had left, she didnt know when, leaving just those two. Turning back, she gestured to her book. "So, how did you find it?" Eira spoke in a quiet, meek voice. It dawned on her that if she wanted a retelling of history and knowledge of the nameless king, this guy would be the one for it. 

Minutes passed with no reply, no movement, only staring. Until finally, a silent scoff was made, though evident in his gesture, and he spun on his heel to walk away. Eira huffed, "Well, I suppose my retelling of the Dragonslayer will be of my opinion then, not facts. The world will know you to be what i write, don't forget". 

A cold, deep chuckle was heard from above her, causing her to jump out of her skin. "Interesting.", came the dark tone, single worded, brief. The Executioner wore an amused expression, though his eyes held a sick darkness to them. It terrified her. Returning her gaze to the Dragonslayer, she noticed he had already walked away. 

"If you are not going to attack me, then can you at least respond? Do your part for this world, give me knowledge to write the truth of history, and find my God.", Eira reasoned confidently, she truly believed in every word she spoke. The Dragonslayer remained silent, calculating. Eira sighed, turning to leave. She'd have to figure this out somehow. Though just as she used her homeward bone, a voice, masculine and strong, though eloquent and elegant, responded. "Your book is wrong." Eyes widening, Eira was too late to reply or ponder his answer, for she was sent to her last bonfire.

\----------

Wrong, how is her book wrong? The nerve. So he did have a voice. Sighing, Eira journeyed her way to the Darkroot forest after finding information about a wolf. Weeks passed by again, and after much reading, she came across a brief text about a mighty knight of Gwyn, with a pet wolf. She supposed looking for the wolf would give her far better chances at finding the knight, and so she had made her way through the murky forest.

Though to no avail, she found nothing but a giant door with an indentation for a crest. Scrapping the idea of the forest, she continued on her path again, this time to New Londo. Maybe something could be said for why a town appeared to be underwater. Maybe she could find a lead on something. She was wrong, of course. Though she did find the time to scribble a few notes about the bare minimum information she found. 

And finally, after 2 months of travelling to a dead town, travelling with Solaire for a short time, avoiding Queelag and pondering on the origins of Sens fortress, alongside finding old Braille tomes and ancient sorcery scrolls and weapons, her destiny lead her back to Frampt.

He had told her that she was the chosen one, to which she replied that every undead was technically the chosen one. The kingseeker was not pleased, to say the least, accusing her of talking with someone named Kaathe. Eira sighed, revealing her book. "You're an adviser, so can you advise me on finding further information?", and to her surprise, he answered. 

He told her about the very first 4 souls who were apparently still alive, and that searching a place called the Demon Ruins, Lost Izalith, the catacombs and Tomb of the Giants would be a good start. Apparently, ancient knowledge was held there. But what excited Eira the most was the area called the the Dukes Archives. "Like a library?", "Far bigger", was his reply. 

This was excellent news. A large library within her reach, and it was only in Anor Londo! She'd start there first. But, of course, there was a catch. "You will need to retrieve the Lordvessel if you are to traverse these areas, Chosen undead.", spoke the rather smug tone of the serpent. Clearly, if she wanted knowledge, she'd have to get that Lordvessel, just like he wanted. Well, so be it. Time to face the duo again.


	2. Intrigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With little delight but a burning passion to obide the Goddess Gwynevere, Ornstein begrudgingly protects and escorts the chosen undead on her journey.
> 
> Both their interests are piqued at long, forgotten books detailing the many battles, sorceries and religion of the land. Eira may be one step closer to reaching her goal after all.
> 
> Their journey is about to get far more arduous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **FROM THIS POINT ONWARDS, IF MY KNOWLEDGE OF DARK SOULS IS WRITTEN INCORRECTLY, OR DOES NOT QUITE MAKE SENSE, I APOLOGISE.**
> 
> Most of the things written are my opinions, such as believing that allowing the fire to fade is the right way. My OC is journeying through her own opinion of that. 
> 
> BUT, if my knowledge is factually wrong, im sorry. Please let me know! Thank uuuuu x

Eira walked through the fog, the phantom of Solaire accompanying her. Unsurprisingly, the duo were in plain sight. Eira inched forward, watching the Dragonslayer perk up at her arrival. "I'm aware that I said i would not commit sacrilege here, but..", she trailed off. She could've swore she heard the Dragonslayer huff, as though he knew what was going to happen. "But, I need the Lordvessel."

In a flash, they were up, weapons raised aggressively. This was not going to end well. Luckily, her and Solaire had formed a few plans, so they kept their target on the biggest one for all of the fight, avoiding the Dragonslayer as much as possible. If they weakened the big one, they might have a chance. 

The fight continued, and now the Dragonslayer was focused on Solaire, while the Executioner was on Eira, and he was certainly weaker. Staring behind his figure, an elevator was visible. Now she'd have to run over in time. Casting as many spells as she could, she managed to distract them with a large chaos fireball, exploding a nearby pillar and causing smoke and debris to obstruct their view. "Solaire, now!", and they darted.

Sprinting towards the elevator, they dived on, ascending to the second floor. Eira screeched as the form of the Dragonslayer was now visible, having jumped up from below and onto the higher ground. Solaire gripped her arm, dashing for the left which lead them to a long path overlooking the cathedral ground floor, though looped around. Many lightning bolts were thrown from both parties, and just as the Dragonslayer grabbed Solaire, ready to skewer him, Solaire screamed "Go!", and Eira ran fast to the large doors. 

Pushing them open, she ran in. The Dragonslayer had dropped Solaire, sprinting towards Eira with Solaire following closely behind, then they all froze. An enormous Goddess sat before them, beautiful and radiant, assets gigantic and very distracting, and she watched as the Dragonslayer kneeled, one hand on his chest. "My Lady, forgive this intrusion.", he spoke deeply, obediently. Eira was more than shocked at hearing him speak. 

Then there was Solaire, basking in the glow of the Goddess, dramatically kneeling with arms out ahead of him, "Goodness, such a beauty! It is my honour to meet you, my lady. As a warrior of Sunlight you truly are my sun!", he floundered, emotions overtaking him as he spoke with such pride and awe. 

Eira bowed awkwardly, "hello, my..lady. Who are you?" She asked curiously, oblivious to the way Solaire practically collapsed in pure astonishment and disbelief. She heard a snort beside her, then a "such ignorance", followed shortly. Eira folded her arms, facing the Dragonslayer, "excuse me?, she deadpanned, huffing as a whisper was heard beside her, sounding like "He has a point, Eira".

After much old English was spoken, Eira was excited to confirm that this was the daughter of Gwyn, which she eagerly wrote in her notebook, a quick depiction of her drawn too. She was polite enough, oblivious to Eiras lack of manners. "I bestow upon thee the Lordvessel", she spoke warmly. "My Lady, please..", spoke the Dragonslayer, "they are mere intruders who did not defeat me and my partner. This isn't custom". Though to his surprise and certainly Eiras, Gwynevere revealed that she could feel Eiras true intention, and that the Dragonslayer, who she called Ornstein, should go with her. 

Apparently, he was no longer needed to defend Anor Londo, and that his desire to find the lost Lord was evident, and intertwined with Eiras own fate. Ornstein tensed, a thick atmosphere surrounding him. "Of course, my Lady. I will do as you ask", he spoke tursely, not bothering to hide that he didn't agree with it, but he'll obey her. 

\--------

Eira did not know how to feel or act. They had departed from Anor Londo silently, no words spoken, and made their way to the firelink shrine. The knight had spoken privately with the Goddess, Eira wasnt sure what of, but she guessed he wouldn't hurt her now. Walking through the grass of the shrine, they finally came to Frampt, who was more than surprised. "I told you to retrieve the Lordvessel, not the Dragonslayer!", he bellowed. Eira sighed, rubbing her temples. "Two for one deal. Long day.", she mumbled.

Frampt eyed the knight cautiously, though didn't question. "Very well then. Hold still.", and before either of them could react, they were in his mouth, squished together and grunting in discomfort. Luckily their helmets prevented the majority of the smell. All was wet and dark for a second, then suddenly they were spat out into an underground room, with an enormous door. Ornstein managed to land onto his feet gracefully, while Eira fell straight onto her backside with a yelp, her sword clattering to the ground. "Don't tell me that's the only transport you have?" She grumbled, standing up sluggishly. "Afraid so. Now, place the Lordvessel onto the pedestal.", he demanded, staring at them upside down.

Ornstein was the first to move, swiftly making his way up to the pedestal, before turning to Eira. "Come.", Eira nodded, running up beside him. She pondered for a moment, before tapping the Dragonslayers arm, much to his annoyance. "Hey, you. I saw those orange seals to the archives, but none to New Londo. There must be a reason for that, why don't we explore there first?", she whispered. Ornstein pondered for a moment. "We may. But be warned, Kaathe lives there, deep in the abyss.", he muttered quietly. Eira slowly brought out a homeward bone, gripping onto Ornstein arm before disappearing, much to Frampts chagrin.

\---------

Luckily for Eira, she already had the covenant of artorias. She wasnt certain who artorias was yet, but she had his ring far from the time she decided to explore the forest (and very closely escape a wolf). 

Apparently, it allowed anyone to traverse the abyss. So, without further ado, both her and the Dragonslayer made their way through New Londo. Ornstein slaughtered the ghosts and darkwraiths with ease, scoffing at how Eira struggled to take down 2 darkwraiths at the same time. As soon as he noticed her genuine trouble, however, he stepped in. Gwynevere did tell him to protect her, after all. Halfway through the town, they retrieved the seal, opened the floodgates and rested for a while, due to Eiras nagging.

Perched upon a small wall, dark wraiths littering the ground, Eira sat down with a relieved sigh, leaning her sword against the wall. It was incredibly dark in the underwater town, eerie whispers and screams of long lost ghosts were emitted, still holding a grudge for the life they unfairly lost. Despite a moment of calm, Eira felt on edge. The Dragonslayer had barely spoke to her, and although he was moderately polite, she often heard him scoffing at her. 

Leaning her head back against the wall, she brought her book out, flipping the pages gently until she got to a fresh page. "Dragonslayer, why did this town flood?", she asked curiously, innocently. To him, she was ignorant, though he supposed he was much older and wiser. Eira heard him sigh, then shift slightly. "Kaathe opposes the age of fire, forming a covenant of darkwraiths said to possess true humanity, therefore opposing all that is fire. Lord Gwyn, his fear being the abyss, attempted to rid New Londo of its evil inhabitants.", he spoke smoothly, as though the memory was fresh in his mind. 

Eira frowned, looking at the deteriorating houses and bridges. "So he killed them all in panic.", she finished with a grimace, picturing the beauty of New Londo before it's destruction. She heard him scoff. "Do not pity, I'm merely here to answer your questions and guide you on your quest, as tasked to me by my lady. Do not assume you can infer your emotions to me.", she heard him swiftly turn and walk away, most likely exploring.

Eira blinked in surprise at his hostility. She had tried pretending to be polite, but to no avail. Fine, then. Huffing, Eira stood up, picking up her sword and continuing forth. 

Eventually they came to a fog wall, and pushed onwards. "Hey, we're here--", Eiras confidence soon melted as her foot was placed onto open air, causing her to tumble forward and stare at the abyss below. Screaming, she squeezed her eyes shut, the breath knocked out of her when a strong hand grabbed her upper arm, hauling her back. "Watch yourself", Ornstein snapped, "and put that ring on."

Eira nodded meekly, heart pounding. Placing the ring onto her finger, she proceeded to descend the steps. "Right. Thanks..". Shaken up and relatively nervous, she descended the steps, the light vanishing the further she got. As far as she knew, 4 kings dwelled in the abyss, swallowed and lost. Coming to the final step, she stared into the black, heart pounding and mind screaming at her to turn back. Everything in her being said that this was dangerous, and yet something about the abyss was alluring. 

"Do you think we can take on 4 at once?", queried a doubtful Eira, hands wringing together. Ornstein scoffed, edging closer to the final step. "My power exceeds theres, logically. Gwyn bestowed to me a larger part of his soul.", he spoke almost nonchalantly, while Eira guffawed and pulled her book out. "What!? Youre only now telling me this?", scribbling a few notes, her book was returned and she remained fixated on the bottomless abyss. 

"Make haste, Undead.", spat the knight, unimpressed and frankly embarrassed at her lack of courage. Gripping her arm forcefully, he jumped, pulling her down with him as she screamed like a madwoman. Once they hit the bottom, Eira was practically hyperventilating, unable to see or feel anything, her mind telling her she should be dead, yet here her body stood. 

Ornstein would be lying if he said he wasnt uneasy, too. "Stay sharp", the Dragonslayer murmured, and she could faintly see the minor crackling of electricity around his spear. Nodding, Eira equipped her own weapon, and began to walk forward. 

One king appeared, as though out of thin air, and attacked Ornstein. He took it down in 3 hits. 2 more appeared, surrounding them both as a third lingered in the background. Soon, it was over, with Eira sustaining minor injuries, though Ornstein practically saved her the majority of the time. To her utter relief, a bonfire appeared, and she ran to it like home. 

Kaathe soon revealed himself, explaining to Eira that the age of fire is wrong, and that Frampt is a disillusioned liar. "How so? He is in search of chosen undeads to extend the age of life", Eira spoke unsurely, repeating only what she had heard. Though, the clacking of his teeth and irritation in his voice told her that he wasn't fond of Frampt. "All but a ploy. Extending the age of fire will only bring despair among humans, such as the undead curse", he growled out. "Darkness is your true habitat. Heed my words, and do not be fooled." 

Eira certainly had a lot to write about, though her opinions on life were private for now. She'd figure out who to trust, Frampt or Kaathe, eventually.

\--------

A week had passed since then, and in that time Eira had busied herself with writing about New Londo, the catastrophe that took place, Kaathe, darkwraiths and humanity.

Meanwhile, the Dragonslayer kept to himself, training or exploring for days on end, before returning to firelink shrine to find her. He hadn't spoken a word to her willingly, only in reply. And if Eira were honest, he was interesting. He was rather impolite to her, and offensive, but his protection was well respected by her. At least he was strong. 

His voice often carried a sense of authority too, and it was so beautiful-- where had that come from? Shaking her head, Eira blocked any further imagining from her mind.

She got to work on devising a plan on her next location. According to Frampt, they could now traverse a number of areas. Eira couldn't give up the opportunity to visit the archives, and Ornstein appeared interested too. 

As the two settled into night, sitting around an empty bonfire, Ornstein often listened to her ramblings and theories. Her book sat upon her lap, her gloves removed so she could write effectively. "Before the age of fire, archtrees were all around. Where are they now?" She mused, staring up at the sky. "How did fire miraculously reach 4 souls?", a sigh of frustration was exhaled, and Eira closed her book. "Enough. I need a break.". Meanwhile, Ornstein was sharpening his spear, merely listening to her ranting and questioning.

"Aha, greetings Eira! It has been a long time", spoke a cheerful voice, belonging to Solaire as he approached the bonfire. Eira smiled under her helmet, patting the space beside her. "It certainly has, how are you?". Solaire sat beside her, sighing sadly. "Not as good as you, I'm afraid. I can't find my sun, Eira. It's a mind boggling thing, indeed.", he exhaled, "Nevermind that, I'm sure i will prevail. How has your travels been with the Dragonslayer? And hello to you, my friend.", Ornstein nodded as a greeting in response. 

Eira excitedly opened her book, revealing her newest chapter. "Brilliant, actually. The more I travel, the more information I find! One day, I am sure i will find the truth about this world, and my Lord.", Solaire nodded earnestly, listening intently about her New discoveries and theories. He tapped a hand to his chin in thought, humming. "I'm happy for you, my friend. I'm sure we will cross paths soon, I just know it. So long for now, and good luck! May the sun shine upon you.", and after a mere hour of conversing, he was gone.

Eiras cheerful mood dropped as soon as he left, her shoulders slumping. "You worry about him.", Ornstein stated plainly, and she nodded, mumbling sadly, "Yes, he is a dear friend."

Ornstein hummed, leaning back against a rock. "A friend.", he repeated slowly. Eira cocked her head and nodded slowly, "A friend. Hes--we're not--you know what I mean. Just companions", she justified quickly, ending in an awkward silence. 

Minutes passed, and Eira decided she had to break the tension. "You can speak to me, you know. We're going to be travelling for a long time, and so far you haven't uttered a word unless forced to, or like just now being the first time". Leaning her head against the grass, she stared at the starry sky. Ornstein shifted slightly, releasing a held breath. "You talk enough for both of us", he replied smoothly, shocked to hear her giggle femininely and agree. He could feel his face heat up slightly from inside his helmet, and ignored it.

"So the Dragonslayer can be both funny and scary?", she smiled, amused, and closed her eyes. Ornstein sat up a little straighter, removing his gloves. "Apparently.", he mumbled, eyes closing too. Soon, they had both fallen asleep, a spark of interest ignited in them both.

\---------

Eira awakened with a groan, regretting sleeping in her armour but not trusting enough to take it off. Sitting up slowly, she wasn't surprised to see Ornstein awake at this ungodly hour, reading through some of the books she had picked up along the way from Anor Londo and the likes. Stretching lightly, Eira released another groan, hand resting over her stomach. With a sigh, she walked towards the well beside the bonfire. 

Removing her helmet in what felt like forever, she smiled at the wind hitting her face. Reaching down, she grabbed a handful of water and splashed it over her face, drinking some of it too. She touched her face, she was glad to be human, of sorts. Her travelling had gained her a lot of humanity along the way, and she couldn't stand being hollowed. 

All the while, Ornstein had been pulled from his book about society between the times of the undead curse, and raised his eyebrows as she removed her helmet. He couldn't see her face, but she had thick, silver hair, though the current setting of the moon made it appear slightly blue.

He heard her humming to herself an unrecognizable tune, and pulled her hair down from her bun, silver strands flowing down her back. Combing her fingers through it onto her shoulder, she grabbed handfuls of water to soak it. Ornstein stilled, he felt intrusive even though that was preposterous, he just didn't know how to act around anyone anymore, especially a woman. It was stupid of her to be doing that, he could kill her at any time, then it dawned on him. She trusted him.

Eira had forgotten all about Ornstein, instead humming a tune from Astora. She thought back to her past life as a child, and sighed. She'd remain positive however, there was plenty of time for new memories to be made. 

The sound of a page turning on a book caught her attention, and she whipped her head around in panic, looking over her shoulder at Ornstein. The Dragonslayer was just as surprised at having her catch him watch her, though just as quickly she turned her face away. He managed to catch a glimpse of pale skin and blue eyes, that was all.

Swiftly, Eira pulled her hair into a bun, placing her helmet back on before turning around. He was watching her, she knew, and he wasn't looking away. Her face reddened beneath her helmet, and she quickly sat down, staring at the sky.

\---------

The day moved forth, leading the two knights on the road to the Archives. They had manoeuvred passed the pigs and the few archers beside the bonfire, as well as those channelers, and just as quickly figured out the stair puzzle and easily found the next bonfire. They spent half a day in the first section of the library, scouring through any interesting titles. 

Ornstein secretly killed any and all enemies within the first few rooms, allowing Eira to roam freely. He felt a sense of duty, nothing more, he told himself. Sitting on a collapsed bookshelf, Ornstein read through a selection he had picked out. Some about typical things like dragons and magic, and others about human kings and ancient cities. 

Hearing a grunt, he looked up from his book, merely staring at the supposed knight in bewilderment as she had multiple books piled upon each other, towering over her height and causing her to stumble. She truly was a damsel, wasn't she? Silently, he walked over to her stumbling form and gripped the books with incredible ease, causing Eira to sputter in embarrassment, and carried them over to a table. 

Eira jogged over, excitedly explaining her findings. "Look, books on ancient sorceries, convoluted time theories, the far east, civilisation, and religion. I thought these sounded fascinating for some light reading", Ornstein raised his eyebrows at that, "But look at this one. A book on the destruction of Gwyn. Even though the way of white was a popular faith amongst civilisations, there were still a few who disagreed. And not only that, but it explains the catastrophic battles him and his knights caused on dragons, and the terror they inflicted on towns who did not agree with mass extinction of the species". 

Ornstein was less than thrilled about this one. Undoubtedly, his name would come up several times, as he was known for his killing spree of dragons. He didn't want that subject to come up. Silently, they both began to read for hours, Eira writing and drawing in her book a few things on Gwyn, the religions surrounding him or opposing him, and the darksign. The majority of the time, Eira was exploring. Though after perhaps a whole day, they decided it was time to carry on. 

"This bookshelf seems odd, like it's a fake. It sounds hollow too. Maybe there's a switch somewhere?", Eira pondered. Turns out, the switch was Ornsteins spear as he rammed it through the bookshelf and destroyed it with lightning. And on they went. Departing to the garden, Eira gasped at the sight of the crystal caves. "That is spectacular.", she breathed in awe. Ornstein nodded, though he wasn't impressed because he knew exactly who lay beyond the caves. 

Avoiding the crystal golems, Eira stopped. "I hear..A voice. Is that golem talking?", she jogged over to a peculiar golden golem. Ornstein attacked it, he knew the magic of trapping people. Out popped a Catarina knight, and Eira gasped. "Siegemyer?!"

"Quite the opposite, actually.", spoke a feminine voice. "I'm Sieglinde, and I'm looking for my father". After chatting for a while and pointing her in the last direction she saw Siegmyer, they were off again. 

Ornstein came to notice something. Eira was very determined, rather optimistic, but mostly she was friendly. He wondered why it's only now he noticed. Straightening, he more importantly began to ponder when he had changed. He supposed it came from having a lack of company, to now having a companion. Ornstein watched Eira walk confidently with a slight spring in her step, she appeared to be gazing curiously at the crystal caves ahead. 

Descending into the caves, Eira stared in awe at the sight of a moonlight buttery perched calmly, smiling lightly to herself. The cave was wondrous to her, she will surely come back to draw it one day soon. Though, all her luck seemed to have ran out when she came to the edge of a cliff, a path in the far distance with an endless depth between her and her designated area. "We'll have to find another way."

Eira almost had a heart attack when Ornstein confidently walked over to the edge, and stepped one foot over. "What are you doing--", and then to her horror, another foot. The young female screeched in fright, wrapping both her arms around his one arm without thinking and attempted to hoist him back. "Are you crazy!?", she screamed, breathing erratic as panic set in. Ornstein was far too heavy to pull towards her, she knew that. Squeezing her eyes shut, Eira tensed and braced for Impact.

Then a second passed. And another. And then a cough met her ears. Eira snapped her head up at him, blanching at the fact that he had survived and was..standing in mid air. Realising she was practically staring up at him, both arms looped around his and leaning on him slightly as he was clearly staring down at her, Eira swiftly pulled away, embarrassment evident in her actions. Ornstein ignored it and began walking. "Let's go.", his smooth, deep voice stated. 

Eira gaped, hands wringing together. He was already halfway across the sky! "Yeah, uh, you go ahead. I'll find another way.", she exclaimed, watching him stop and turn around, his helmet cocking slightly. "Don't tell me you're afraid.", he scoffed, disbelief evident in his sarky tone. 

Eira crossed her arms, huffing. "Not everyday you see a hunk of armour walk across the sky, buddy. I'm not going that way, end of.", she finalised with a firm tone, turning on her heel to face the opposite direction in defiance.

Another scoff could be heard, and Eira filled with embarrassment and irritation. Turning back around with a whip of her head, Eira glared through her helmet. "I am not going--", and then gasped. How had he gotten right in front of her? Stepping back in reflex, Eira squeaked as she was suddenly hoisted into his arms. "What the hell!? Put me down! I am capable of going myself!", she shouted shakily.

Ornstein carried her over the invisible walkway with little effort. "You're wasting time, I'm merely making haste.", he drawled. Eira wiggled slightly, humiliation evident in her voice as it shook slightly. "I don't care, now let me go!", she growled, arms folding. 

Though as soon as he stepped into mid air and she looked down, she gasped and reflexively wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly. "Don't you dare let me go, Dragonslayer!", she demanded. 

Ornstein rolled his eyes, women were strange. She was lucky it was his duty to help her. Eira wondered if he could see her blush, even though she knew he couldn't. She felt vulnerable even with a helmet shielding her, and glanced to the side silently as her cheeks held a tinge of redness. 

\-------------

After arduous efforts of bypassing powerful clams and fighting a scaleless dragon who Ornstein slayed all alone, taking particular pleasure in the kill, Eira could admit that she was honestly relieved to be back at the shrine, resting beside the bonfire in the moonlight. The adventure could wait, she felt exhausted. She decided that with all her souls, she may as well level up and buy some new equipment from Andre tomorrow. 

Meanwhile, the Dragonslayer sat against a wall, drifting into his own thoughts. He never believed he'd be protecting an undead human, or a woman, or the same woman who persisted to him in Anor Londo, the woman he had killed a few times. She wasnt as troublesome as he thought, he supposed. She was interesting. His mind wandered to the moment she wrapped around him tightly, and he shook his head. It reminded him of Ciaran, who was also afraid of incredible heights.

Though soon, he noticed that Eira had fallen asleep beside the bonfire, and he too closed his eyes to prepare for the next day.


	3. Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey to the tomb of the giants was one of interest, indeed. Patches makes his appearance, betraying Eira not once, but twice.
> 
> Whats more, the two knights appear to be bonding, through bickering at least.
> 
> Now that Nitos soul has been retrieved, what lays ahead? How will their odd companionship flourish?
> 
> Or will it perish?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter! This is where i kinda found my way in this story. If you have any opinions, let me know!

The next few days were a blur, travelling through the tomb of giants for possible information. It was dark, pitch black, and after bypassing the many skeletons and defeating Pinwheel, they found themselves in a cave void of light, save for the small orbs of light guiding the way. In that time, Ornstein and Eira had become at least a bit more civil, with Ornstein asking her questions now and again when they had a break, about her purpose, her armour, her destinations, etc. 

Eira smiled at the memory, her head emitting an ear splitting, high pitched ringing sound, dizziness clouding her vision as a feeling of warmth cascaded down her face. That bastard Patches had caught her while Ornstein was busy surveying the area ahead, disposing of any enemies. She could hear the giggle Patches released, and groaned as her head pounded. 

That was some fall. He had kicked her harshly in the back, and her old rusty helmet had smashed into a rock, denting inwards and probably breaking her nose. Eira gasped for breath, wincing as the helmet was now jammed onto her head due to the dent. "O-ornstein..", she whimpered, tears brimming beneath the helmet. She didn't want to cry, but she couldn't hold it back. 

As though on cue, a flash of red and gold propelled downwards from the cliff, landing easily. Ornstein had swiftly gathered her into his arms, for duty, he told himself. Lighting a torch, he set it on the ground in a tiny corner of the cave, gently putting Eira down too. " Your helmet is ruined. I'll need to take it off.", he mumbled, easily breaking open her helmet with his hands. She hissed in pain, part of the helmet lodged into her cheek. 

He hadn't realised that he was holding his breath as her features came into view. Although very dim, he could see a bloodied nose, blue eyes and an overall vulnerable expression, innocent. It was hard to truly see her expression and features, but the sadness in the depths of her crystal eyes was evident. 

An awkward silence overcame them, and it was promptly ignored for a small time. Meanwhile, Eira cursed herself multiple times, ripping a piece of her underlayers off and wetting the cloth in a small puddle. "That bastard Patches, he's a fool for daring to trick me", seethed the pained woman through bloody teeth. 

"And you are the fool for trusting him. Stop that, you'll merely make it worse.", Ornstein ducked low in the small cave, he was far too tall to be here. Trudging over, he kneeled beside her once more, mumbling to himself for a moment. A small shuffle was heard, and then nothing.

Eiras breath hitched as she felt cool, bare hands touch her face. They were large and calloused, but soothing. "What are you doing?"

Ornstein inspected lightly, one hand retrieving a talisman. "I'm no healer, but i believe this will suffice. I suggest learning the art of healing miracles, it would prove to be sufficient, and I'm certain your covenant has many miracles of the sort."

Eira grimaced at the pain, though nodded slowly. "I suppose you're right. It hadn't occurred to me that miracles would be needed, but..I'm aware that being a sunlight warrior offers various amounts.", she hesitated, face turning to the side even though she couldn't see him, "Thank you."

She felt him nod, he was so close. The pain in her face soothed, and eventually it had vanished. "You truly take your Lady's word to heart - protecting me and all."

Ornstein scoffed, hands slowly leaving her face. He rose gracefully, she knew. " Yes. Well. It is my duty to ensure your safety, nothing more. Anyhow, let us continue.", he gripped her arm in the darkness, hoisting her up with such ease it nearly knocked Eira off balance, and she briefly stumbled into his chestplate, before swiftly creating a distance between them. 

She heard him hum. " And if I may say so, you had no qualms about whimpering my name earlier, lady. Perhaps you are more a damsel than you are a knight", he deadpanned, voice deep and smooth as always. His grip had not left her arm.

Eira guffawed, red tinging her cheeks as her voice heightened in pitch. "I-I said no such thing! Do not mistake a mere cry of pain for..for something more! I did not call your name and I never would!", at this point her arms were flailing animatedly as she spoke, a nervous gesture of hers. 

Ornstein gave a true laugh, rich with amusement. He was never one to tease, or even be this civil with Eira, but something about her gave him enjoyment when bantering. In truth, his heart leapt when she had whimpered his name. 

Eira chuckled eventually, albeit nervously. "I cannot believe it. The infamous Dragonslayer, who only mere months ago would have killed me, is now teasing me. Do you care for me now?", she teased back. She would have the upper hand. 

It was his turn to sputter, but only briefly. He instantly steeled himself with poise and calmness. " Your teasing means little when compared to the fact that I believe you want me to care.", she could hear his shit eating grin, and became acutely aware of how close they had gotten during their bantering. Battling for dominance in the situation had led them taking closer steps, more so that she ever believed he was capable of. 

Eira huffed, staring up at his large form, her face reaching his mid chest. Redness bleached her pale cheeks - he had won. Jabbing a finger into his chest plate, Eira glared. "Just because you are some Dragonslayer with a part of Gwyns soul, who wields lightning and is--," She gestured to him, "--freakishly tall, do not think that I won't beat your ass!" 

It took everything in him not to laugh. She was tiny. Ornstein relented. "Ah, of course. I'd do well to learn my place.", he replied sarcastically, finally leaving the cave. Bantering reminded him of 3 friends that he holds dearly to his heart. 

Eira smiled, traversing the tomb without helmet. For now, at least. She was certain armour lay in the midst of darkness somewhere. But first, to Patches. 

He was easy to find, perched on that same ledge, waiting for the next victim. "So there's the little bastard. Good.", Ornstein heard the sound of a small blade unsheathing, and stepped forward. "Do you think that's wise?"

"I do.", flipping it in her hand, she gripped the blade end through her iron gloves. Marching straight for him, she reeled her arm back and pounded the handle of the knife into his face. Patches collapsed onto his back, a cry of shock resounding, and held his arms up in surrender and panic. "Wait! I didn't mean it, honest! I just get these..urges..", he pleaded through bloodied teeth. "At least give me a chance to explain, yeah?" 

Eira stood back and regarded him coldly, waiting. "I thought you were a cleric, you see. Hate those lot, I do. But now i realise--", he shrieked at her sword now pointing at him, "--now I realise you're more of a warrior. Yes, a force to be reckoned with, you are! So as an apology, I offer you some information?", he suggested innocently. 

Patches sat up slightly, wiping his mouth. "Now I was going to keep that lot down there to myself. But, as an apology, I'll let you have them. Two priests and a maiden are down there, lost.", he stood now, pointing down the cliff. "They'll all be hollowed soon, I'm sure, and then you can take all their treasures. Sounds fair, right?"

Eira narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but the sound of a maiden alerted her that it could perhaps be Rhea, who disappeared a week ago. Sheathing her blade, Eira nodded. Patches smiled. "How's about this, then? You send your knight off to take on that lot down there, and I'll show you my collection of humanity. It's the least I could do!"

It all sounded far too good to be true, Ornstein knew. He waited silently and observed. Oddly enough, Eira agreed with Patches. "Good idea. Thank you.", she smiled. Ornstein left but only when pushed to. He knew she could take care of herself. His golden figure eventually vanished down into the pit. 

Patches and Eira talked idly for a moment. "You and me are alike, you know. That's why we should stick together! Now about that humanity--", he stopped and pointed, " Wait. Look down there, love. Seems your knights in a bit of a pickle.", Eira laughed, turning towards the cliff. "Absolutely not, he can easily take on a few--"

He had kicked her down the cliff. 

\--------------

Ornstein ventured through the darkness of the pit, very aware of the bright white robes in the distance. Perhaps that is the maiden? The sound of two sets of footsteps approached him. Ah, the hollows. Two clerics, possibly guardians of the maiden, who had became mindless. No matter, he would dispose of them quickly. 

Two lifeless bodies now lay on the ground, and Ornstein bowed his head slightly in respect. They were now at peace. The sound of a scream and a painful thud against the floor resounded, and he knew what had happened. 

In a bloodied heap, Eira lay gasping for breath once again, having fallen on her back this time, breaking a few ribs. She coughed up blood, struggling to sit up. "Bastard, I will fucking kill you! By the gods, you are dead!", she roared, a painful cough soon erupting with copious amounts of blood. 

Ornstein was there in an instant, healing her immediately. "Were you that naive?", he muttered, pulling her to her feet once the healing was done. Her anger was short-lived as the sight of the maiden was ahead. "Rhea?"

The maiden in question was sniffling, weeping. Her head shot up at her name. "Goodness, could it be you, Eira?", spoke a soft, young voice. Eira wrapped her arms around the young girl in an affectionate embrace. "It is. Your friends, they hollowed. May they rest."

Rhea sniffled once more, shakily rising to her feet. "They were brave men, risking their lives to protect someone such as myself.", she spoke lowly of herself. Eira was saddened by that. Rhea meekly reached out to Ornstein, who had been standing at a distance. "You, fair knight. You have my gratitude for delivering peace upon them.", she smiled up at him weakly. He was not certain on Eiras physical age, but it was evident that the maiden must have been in her teens and far younger. Ornstein merely nodded in understanding at her. 

Rhea turned to Eira. "I will see myself out. I am capable of that much. Go, and continue your journey. I will see you at the shrine, I promise.". Eira hesitated, handing the maiden her small, simple knife. "It is not much, but if anyone tries to hurt you, get up close, and kill them. You will go straight to the shrine", she kissed her forehead, "Now go.", Rhea nodded and left swiftly. 

"You care for the girl.", spoke the knight to her left. Eira nodded. "How can I not? She is merely a child, forced onto a path she does not wish to take."

Ornstein agreed. "You are a child to me, are you not? I have lived for many millennia.", Eira hummed, walking to the exit. "I've lived for about a little over 2000 years, I believe. So yes, you're right. Although, does that mean you're an old man under that helmet?" 

Ornstein rolled his eyes, "No. My physical age remains youthful, much like yourself. Now, let's make haste.", his long strides had already made it to the exit, up the ladder to patches. Eira would be lying if she said she wasn't curious as to what hid beneath that armour. 

Climbing the ladder, her mind wandered. He was definitely muscular or lean, did he have scars? What was his hair like? Hailing from a city of Gods, was he handsome? Eira shook her head, now was not the time for such thoughts. 

Patches was easy to find yet again. Crouched down, he squatted comfortably giggling to himself. The anger began to rise in her once again. "You, coward! I forgave you, and yet I was tricked once again.", she spoke in disbelief, and he stood with arms raised. "Oh come on, love. Drop it, yeah? Youre a gullible little knight, I couldn't help myself." He cackled, tilting his head. "Though, what kind of knight would fall for it?", 

Eira narrowed her eyes, anger bubbling. "And what is that supposed to mean?". Patches shrugged, thinking. "you're more of a damsel than a knight, ain't you, love? Being rescued by a highly esteemed knight over there.", he pointed at Ornstein, laughing in mockery. "You're a woman--" 

Some of Patches' teeth were knocked out by the force of Eiras gloved fist. " How dare you? I am a woman, yes, but i know for a fact that this "damsel" can best you! I am a knight!", she punched him once more. 

Patches held his hands up once more, "Of course, yes! You are a formidable knight! I apologise. For the trouble, take this.", he handed her 10 humanity. "Go on, love, do your worst to all who oppose.", with that he slinked away. 

Ornstein raised a brow. "Quite the female advocate, I take it.", Eira spun on her heel to face him. "Don't you start with me, Dragonslayer. Women can be fierce, too." 

Ornstein nodded, "I would know, I lead many to battle. It was not custom at first, but once the dark sign appeared, every woman was a warrior in some way, fighting for their families alongside men." 

Eira nodded, deeply in thought. "All societal customs are cast aside once the dark sign reappears, as it always does after a couple hundred years. When the fire rekindles, kingdoms begin forming the structures of society once more." 

They began a brisk walk. "Indeed. In truth, there was a time where women were viewed as lesser in some towns, and still are. The city of God's allowed no such bigotry, and welcomed skilled men and women into it's ranks." 

Eira smiled, who would have thought that Gwyn was all for equality? Bypassing a few skeletons with ease, they found themselves outside, overlooking endless sky and the peculiar sight of crimson red in the distance, magma. That must be the demon ruins, she thought. 

Carrying on across a narrow cliff edge, Eira reminisced. "I briefly remember wars as a child - a real child, with life and death living in balance. Though suddenly, life changed. Everyone I had loved was gone. It was an odd transition.". Eira didn't know why she was telling him this, the words simply flowed. 

"I witnessed peace for 13 years of my life, and then the dark sign appeared. I cannot imagine a life where humans thrive. Though, speaking of human, aren't you..human?" Eira asked cautiously. Surely he was? 

Ornstein scoffed. His past criticism led him to believe that he was far above all. He was different now. "I was, once, when kingdoms and cities were mere dust of fate. I have lived far longer as a knight gifted gods power, so i would no longer say I am human. To regular people, my kind was viewed as godly in certain ways."

Eira tilted her head, how interesting. She had much to write about, that was for sure. "We will continue this conversation another time, there is much i wish to know, but for now...", she gestured to the gaping hole in the ground, "I believe we've found the gravelord."

\-------------------

Exhaustion painted the small knights face as she sat tiredly at the bonfire of Nitos grave. He was dead, truly. "Here, take this.", she passed him a bag of blooming purple clumps, eradicating the poison that had been inflicted. 

Ornstein sat the opposite side of the bonfire, cleaning his spear. "Another soul. One more left.", he heard her sigh.

"Ornstein, I do not agree with murdering these people. It is not I who wishes to link the fire anyhow, yet here we are collecting their souls."

He merely shrugged in response, he was nonchalant about their deaths. "Nito would never cooperate. He is dangerous, like the rest. His demise needed to happen, his army of dead were growing vastly." 

Eira agreed. Nito would only bring death. "True. Let's get out of here, I need to begin my writing of what i have witnessed. We'll postpone our travels for now."

The warp back was silent, and the two sat at the shrine in comfortable silence. A single thought crossed both of the knights minds, when had things began to change?


	4. A New Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months had passed as Eira vigorously worked through her books to find solid truth and evidence of the past. Now that they have settled into Firelink shrine, a certain golden knight makes his appearance in less than friendly terms.
> 
> Furthermore, Eira has decided to resume their travels, but not before searching for her dear friend Siegmyer in a place far below even Blighttown - the Ashen Lake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story Lautrecs horribleee so sorry if you like him. I feel like having Eira portray strength AND helplessness now and again would be interesting, to remind us that she isnt immortal, as much as she pretends to be. 
> 
> Anyway, pls enjoy

For a long time, perhaps months, Eira spent her time writing and drawing her knowledge. Chapter upon chapter was written daily, like a ritual. Additionally, Eira spent her time caring for wounded travellers, allowing the shrine to be bustling with commotion. It brought a smile to her face, seeing the many people form friendships and bonds in this unclear time of life. 

It ended swiftly.

Soon, her friend Lady Rhea had disappeared again, then the leftover priests. Siegemeyer and Solaire stopped visiting, and eventually many travellers were either murdered, hollowed, or had simply deserted the Shrine permanently. That bastard Lautrec helped none, too. His presence was dangerous, evil. His gaze was firmly set upon Eira, especially when she comforted the firekeeper. 

Usually, Eira was strong, nonchalant, but on the rare occasion that Ornstein was far away, sometimes for the whole day, it made her even more wary of Lautrec, who appeared pleased at her loneliness. Luckily, she didn't see him often, but tonight was different. Tonight, he made sure she'd encounter him, she knew. 

Eira was briefly enjoying a moment of peace, her eyes burning from constant reading, as she stared up at the murky night sky. It was a cool evening, and the breeze was pleasant. Eira had travelled to the enormous bridge overlooking the shrine, disposing of the hollows before sitting where her friend Domhnall would sit before he, too, disappeared. 

Grinning, Eira fondly remembered the cheerful merchant. They shared stories, and found that they were the only two who shared a similar accent. Domhnall was delighted at that, and nicknamed her snow, for that is what her name meant in a language long forgotten to them. He was a true friend, content even with the world's imbalance. She missed him heavily. 

Eira barely noticed the gentle footsteps approaching, for she was deeply lost in fond memories. The Shrine was a trusted place, and not many were too cautious, including her. The sight of gold armour made her heart leap and flutter, though it quickly dropped as soon as she realised that it wasn't the gold armour she had hoped for. 

Lautrec stood before her, weapon clutched. He was deeply amused at the sight before him. "Not the shining knight you were hoping for, Lady?", he mocked, slowly making his way towards her. Eira was on her feet in seconds, cautiously backing away to the wall. "Your presence is not welcome. Leave, please.", she spoke tursely.

Eventually, his tall frame stood before her menacingly. Never as tall as Ornstein, but for a human, he certainly was tall. Eira screamed at herself inwardly for not wearing her armour, and she knew that he noticed. Suddenly, he was pressed up against her, armour digging into her bitingly, a hand clamped on her mouth. "If you scream, I'll hurt that Firekeeper you're so fond of", he chuckled coldly. Eira stilled.

Lautrec hummed, hand gripping her jaw roughly. "You are so adored, are you not? So cherished by all. It sickens me.", he spat jealously. The shrine loved her, and despised him. He had politely tried it on her once, to which she declined. Now, he despised her. The reason eluded Eira. Eira gripped his wrist, prying it off. "Do not touch me, Lautrec. And you will not touch the Firekeeper." 

The sudden sting of a gloved palm hit her cheek, the iron gauntlet cutting into her cheek. Eira stilled, glaring daggers up at him. How dare he treat her this way after she had released him from a cell? His hand remained on her cheek, decending to her neck, before finally edging it's way down to her collarbones. Eira pushed him instantly, but gasped as he roughly pushed back at her, hands gripping her own painfully, slamming her against the wall. "You will do nothing. If an ounce of this is repeated to that knight of yours, I will damn him to Fina.", Lautrecs collected mood dropped as he hissed at her. 

Eira was a strong fighter, but without her armour she was doomed. Her sword lay behind him, too. He was terribly strong, and naturally had the upper hand in strength. Eira froze at his threat, contemplating if such a damnation was possible. Not taking any chances, Eira obeyed. "You are a pig", she spat defiantly, remaining still as his hand glided over her collarbones, to just above her breast. 

"And you are an insufferable wench. A wench who needs to learn her place.", he palmed her chest gleefully, grunting as he pushed his lower body against Her own. Eira froze uncomfortably, humiliated at her lack of fight. "How dare you defile me", she seethed through gritted teeth, unable to move as his armour stuck painfully into her. Lautrec chuckled, squeezing her with a brutal force. "Is it not the same? I'm certain you'd let that knight defile you, Lady.", the grin was in his voice, irking her to react if she dare. 

"Do not forget, I will destroy that Firekeeper if you so much as tell a soul. The same fate will come to her", he suggested, hand now slipping beneath Eiras shirt. She relented. Eira grimaced at the feeling of hardness pressed against her thigh, sickness settling into her stomach. She will kill him one day. 

Though suddenly, he stopped. Standing back, she realised why. The faint sound of crackling could be heard, suggesting that Ornstein was close. Lautrec slowly stood back from her, chuckling. "Pity. Until next time, then.", and he swiftly turned. "And there will be a next time", his figure quickly disappeared into the distance. Eira waited 10 minutes to ensure he was indeed gone, and picked up her sword shakily, leaving the bridge and walking down the path to the shrine. Strapping her sword to her back, Eira began buttoning up the few buttons that Lautrec managed to force open with his hand. 

Her upper chest was revealed to the night, but she didn't care as she slowly buttoned them up. Her mind lingered on the violations Lautrec had caused, tears being brought to her eyes. The mere humiliation of if was too much to bare. 

Standing beside the well, Eira splashed water into her face. She felt dirty. Tears fell down her face, her eyes closed and teeth gritted. And she jumped, no, leaped in fright as the crackling of lightning resounded behind her closely, a strong presence felt. Gasping, Eira spun on her heel, fist outstretched in reflex to attack mindlessly. 

It was swiftly grabbed, of course, by none other than the male she wanted to see but was too humiliated to face. Her wrist was enclosed by a golden gauntlet, and for a moment she panicked, but calmed at the sound of his voice. "You are without armour", he spoke matter of factly, her hand still gripped in his overly large one. Eira scoffed, pulling her hand away, "I am.", she turned away, uncomfortably aware that this is the first time he has witnessed her without an ounce of armour to protect her. She felt naked. It was wrong, but the events with Lautrec messed with her mind. 

Stepping back, Eira began to retreat for the night. A hand gripped her shoulder firmly in irritation. After almost a year together, they rarely treated each other with such bitterness, and he was irritated by her lack of care for her own armour, her safety, while he left for only mere hours. But she continued to leave more forcefully now, shrugging off his hand.

To say this was out of character for her was an understatement. Usually, Eira was talkative, bubbly, clad in armour every hour of the day, and he typically heard her before he saw her, like her humming, or the turning of pages. But not today. Frustrated, he more roughly gripped both shoulders and turned her to face him. "I deserve an explanation for your sour mood". 

But she cut him off. Voice uncharacteristically high pitched with vulnerability and anger, he was met with her expressions in the moonlight, her face visible, a rare commodity that not even he had witnessed fully. "Must all men touch me tonight!?", she exclaimed angrily. Just like touching something boiling hot, he instantly dropped his hands from her being and stood back uncomfortably. 

\------------

The night was silent after her comment, and he did not approach her. Months ago, he wouldn't care. But naturally, her existence grew on him. As soon as the comment left her mouth she clamped it shut and stared down in fear, refusing to look at him. 

She sat in her own corner, refusing to touch a book and merely carved a tree branch with a small knife. Ornstein sighed loudly, finding the silence to be petty. "Answer me honestly. Are you and that knight an item?", his voice held irritation, as though he wanted the situation to be over. 

A large cloak shielded her from his view, but he knew he had caught her out. She played dumb. "Who?", Ornstein sighed deeply, standing up. He approached her, and sat beside her. "I'm a knight. One who controlled many men, the occasional woman, and led armies to battle. I was the first knight of Gwyn and the nameless king, and I was even his mentor for a while.", her head perked up at that in shock, her attention fully on him now. Good. "No details escape me. To lead that many people, I would have to be as sharp as a blade. Now, I'll ask you again, because we both know that I know the answer. Are you an item?" 

Eira shifted uncomfortably, knowing he was right. Ornstein saw everything, and she hated it. "No, we're not an item, but...", she trailed off, tears threatening to spill once more. How embarrassing. 

Ornstein waited patiently. "My Lady has given me the mission to protect you. For me to do that, I must know the truth. I'm certain you are hiding something from me.". He was being far more caring than he ever had been, but after noticing her undone buttons and ruffled hair, he began to conclude that they were a couple. To learn that they are not a couple must mean....

Eira relented with a frustrated huff, throwing her knife roughly at the tree before them. "Fine, I'll tell you! He snuck up on me like the vile insect that he is, and--", her voice caught. She struggled to even say it out loud. Ornstein waited tensely. Eira physically slumped, defeated and humiliated. Her voice now quiet, tender, she spoke. "Let's just say me being a female knight did nothing to deter him. He is an oathbreaker, a pig." She spat shakily, swiveling so her back now faced him. 

Ornstein was silent. It wasnt often he came face to face with this kind of situation. All he could think of was how he hadn't been there to prevent it. Gently, he hesitated and spoke. "And did he commit fully?", Eira shook her head. "No, we heard you approaching, and he stopped. The most he did was touch my chest."

"I apologise. I am failing my duty as a knight, leaving you to fall victim to a beast. Please, forgive me, if you will.", spoke a defeated and humiliated voice, and she turned to see him kneeling before her, as is custom. Eira smiled through her tears. A fierce look was suddenly in her eyes. She will overcome that man. 

Eira chuckled breathlessly, sniffling back tears. "Spoken like a true knight, how charming. Correct me if im wrong, but id say that the Dragonslayer who is above all else seems to care for the human girl", she teased, her dazzling eyes visible from the darkness of her hood, though he knew she was smiling.

Sputtering for less than a second, Ornstein rose elegantly, staring down at her. "You're presence has grown on me, I admit. But do not push yourself, human", he relented and teased back, smiling beneath his helmet. Her girlish giggle was one he found he could not get used to, a side of her he never saw. It was oddly refreshing.

\------------

The sun peaked shyly over tall mountains, the moon still visible as the remnants of the night passed. It was a sight to behold, dark red and orange from the very corner of the sky, merging with the blue hue of night. The crow cawed 4 times, signalling the early morning. Eira sat in tranquillity, painting the morning sky in her small journal. Everything felt so normal, so peaceful. This moment had to be remembered. 

Her oversized cloak hung loosely around her shoulders, an assassin looking mask adorning her face, covering her mouth and nose. The habit of protecting identity was something she could not break. Blue eyes peaked over the mask, concentration etched into them as the colours were correctly copied. 

A bit of normalcy was needed sometimes. The ever present dark sign in the sky was a reminder that not all is normal, but for once, she ignored it. Mind wandering, a multitude of things crossed her path of thought. She remembered fondly how her old friends from the previous kingdom would teach her how to be a girl by doing her hair. Even now, she still couldn't get used to extravagant hairstyles, but it made her smile nonetheless. 

Gently setting her painting down, Eira placed a large pebble atop it to keep it in place. Gripping her thick locks of silver, Eira grabbed a short rope, the length of her hand, and wrapped it around her hair 3 times in a high ponytail. She chuckled to herself, she truly felt like a typical assassin in any fictional story, all sleek looking. 

"Change of profession, perhaps?" Drawled a curious tone from behind her, eying her mask. Eira shook her head, staring at the sky. "Absolutely not. I am a knight. Though, at one point, I was an assassin..", she trailed off in thought. Ornstein was stood behind her in his armour, head tilted slightly. In almost a year, she never took her armour off. Now, she barely wore it around him. He never had a chance to look at her clearly yesterday due to the dark, though currently he can see just how long her hair is, and peculiarly silver. 

A large, charcoal cloak covered her entire form, perhaps for warmth, he thought. Ornstein felt odd staring at her, but to see even someones hand was incredibly rare in the world. Still, his staring would remain secret. Eira stood, wiping off her trousers. "We have much to do. I've studied and written enough, I think its time we journeyed again." She spoke as she turned, walking past his figure. 

The only thing Ornstein noticed was dazzling, dark blue eyes, piercing and strong. He raised his eyebrows, eying her more than he'd ever admit. "The archives, Tombs and new Londo have been searched. I suppose the last place would be lost Izalith. Though, I do believe you mentioned returning to the darkroot forest and blight town.", spoke a deep voice, stance straight with hands behind his back. 

Eira blinked. "I'm glad one of us remembers. I recall Sieglinde saying she was in search of her father. This may be farfetched, but rumours say there is a lake far below even blight town, Siegmyer said. I'm going to look down there for him. We have scoured all of Lordran, he must be down there. I have a feeling.", Eira nodded with determination, shrugging her cloak off to put her armour on. Ornstein coughed, averting his eyes. She had on a simple garb, but it was still improper of him. 

Eira rolled her eyes, "Oh, hush. I'm certain you've seen more than that". The comment shocked him and herself, his eyes widening slightly. Was she implying...? Sighing, he wondered why he even cared so much. And off they went. 

The journey through Blight town was not joyful. Avoiding the giants with boulders, Eira trudged through the poisonous sludge and up a large tree branch. "This seems to lead somewhere, let's go.", she ran ahead, walking into the tree, in an enclosed room with a chest. 

Eira paused. "I bet there's something more here.", she tapped each wall with her sword until one vanished. "Aha!", taking the treasure, she hit down the next illusion, which lead a path to a ladder. 

Trees layered upon one another, branches stretching for miles and spiralling into all directions. There was no floor, only trees and what appeared to be a weak webbing on the ground, which lead lower to further trees and whirling paths. 

They navigated the area with ease, Eira was a fickle creature, and found that jumping from branch to branch wasnt all that difficult. She avoided the basilisks at all costs, however. A run in with them hundreds of years ago made her grimace at how the poision they spat had deteriorated her health. 

They moved in relative silence. The erratic placement of branches was seen as a type of obstacle course, and they moved with determination to reach the bottom. And they did, though they did not expect to see what was ahead. 

"Beautiful", breathed a quiet voice to Ornsteins left, and he saw her eyes glisten with wonder and amazement, though her overall expression was hidden. He could only nod, for not even he had foreseen this. 

An emerald hue seemed to float above the entire area, emphasised more by the fact that the ever stretching lake was purely black, no ounce of light showing the possible contents at the bottom. A single thin path was laid before them, white like sand, meandering into a nearby tree. 

Eira curiously followed, staring at the sky. "This is incredible.", she voiced with awe, "the sky - it's all trees. So many astronomically sized trees!". Ornstein hummed, scrutinizing the area. "Indeed. It would come as no surprise if the spiralling branches around the shrine come from down here.".

They pressed on, navigating through a large tree with an opening, until they finally reached the end, which lead them to the other side of the lake, the white sand-like path now outstretched into a bay. A Hydra could be seen in the distance, it's necks moving erratically through the water, and clams were witnessed walking around. Huge skulls lay forgotten in the sand, their origins unknown even to Ornstein. 

Ornstein paused, eyes narrowing on two figures in the distance. "I believe your companions, the Catarina knights, are in that direction." He pointed. Eiras head snapped to the direction he had pointed, eyes wide with relief. "Yes, it's them!", and she broke into a joyous sprint, eyes wild with happiness. Ornstein followed closely, and the closer they got, the more he glowered. 

One knight lay sprawled on the ground, while the other was stood above them. Eiras face slowly fell, until eventually only worry was etched into her eyes. Ornstein braced himself for what was to come. 

She knelt beside the fallen knight slowly, no words spoken. By Sieglindes crying, she knew what had happened. Siegmyers sanity could stand no more. It hurt. It left an aching deep in her heart. He was her friend, and now he was gone, dust in the wind. 

\----------------

Ornstein knew she had weeped silently, holding together what strength she had left. For once, he would not comment, or mock. He simply followed in silence as they departed her fallen friend, and made their way through the rest of this Ashen lake. 

Ornstein stopped, it was relatively safe here now. The monstrosity in The water was gone, and the clams were far away. He'd leave her be for now.

Eira sorrowfully made her way to another tree opening, coming to terms with the death of her friend. He was at peace now. Ornstein had trailed off somewhere, so for now she would explore too. Eira thought that the area itself had shocked her. She was wrong. 

Slowly descending a tree branch into an enclosed, large area, black appendages were now visible, and the further she descended, the more she froze. Rooted to the spot, Eira did nothing but stare in utter fear and amazement.

Ornstein had left Eira for about 30 minutes, and it was far too silent for him to be comfortable with. He found her eventually, and from his position on the branch, he could see her kneeling before blackness. Though as he approached, it was not mere blackness. It was an everlasting dragon, oldest of its kind, rare, and terrifying. 

It's legs came into view first, thick tail trailing behind, and he knew. The further he approached, though, the more of its body was revealed, until eventually it's intimidating maw was staring down at him, not Eira, with pure malice.

What bewildered him even more, was seeing Eira talking to the beast! 

Eira was down on both knees, hands held in front of her in respect. "You are one of the rare wonders of this cruel world. A survivor, a remnant of a world before fire. I'm honoured to be in your presence.", she spoke with pure adoration, and Ornstein wondered why. 

The dragons wise gaze regarded Eira with calmness, he saw her as no threat, Ornstein knew this. Eira smiled. "I've been traveling this world in search of knowledge, discovering the truths and meanings to write in my very own book.", Ornstein gaped at the sight before him. Not even his elite knights would have willingly been so close to a dragon, an elder one at that! 

"Eira, stand back", he demanded, stepping forward. The Dragons piercing gaze snapped upon the Dragonslayer, and the beast grumbled in discontent at his movement. Ornstein had the familiar itch to destroy the beast for gazing upon him with such disrespect. 

Eira stood, gazing up at the dragon once more. "Ignore my companion, he means no harm. Though, I bet you know all about him, don't you?", her voice held an edge of sadness. The dragon appeared to be listening. Ornstein had always believed that the beasts could understand humans, he knew they were smart.

A step further, and the dragon physically moved now, hunching slightly as a threat. "Stop it!", Eira glared at the Dragonslayer. "You've brought about enough destruction, do not cause any more." Ah, so she had most certainly read the passages which depicted him as a possible warlord and a slayer of dragons. It was only now she voiced this knowledge. 

For once, he obeyed. Eira gazed back up at the old dragon. " You have my thanks. You would have destroyed any untrustworthy intruder on the spot, and yet you tolerate our, especially his, presence.", the dragon grumbled once more, reluctantly agreeing, she supposed.

"You have suffered, I know this. Your kin are no longer, yet here you prevail. The slayer of your very kind stands before you, and you remain passive. You believe he has changed?", she smiled mysteriously, like she knew something Ornstein didn't. The Dragons eyes held a hidden twinkle. She took that as a yes.

The dragons tail moved slowly, enclosing Eira to it's body. Yet, she was not scared. Ornstein, in the entirety of his life, alive for millennia, had never witnessed this. It was against everything he knew. Humans and dragons in his time were sworn enemies, destroying each other, yet here he is proved wrong. A strange feeling deep in his gut - trust. He watched. 

Eira gently lay a hand on its tail. " You are smart. On my quest, I wish to find knowledge. I am in search of my Lord, another slayer you have heard of, no doubt.", the dragons eyes shone for a moment in acknowledgment, "is there anything you are able to bestow upon me, or guide me to?"

The dragon hummed almost, steely eyes turning to Ornstein. Bravely, he stepped forward, walking slowly to where it's tail lay enclosed around Eira. Both himself and Eira stood silently, waiting cautiously now, though nothing happened. 

Suddenly, Eiras enclasped hands shone brightly, and so did Ornsteins. A covenant? Eira stared brightly up at the dragon. "I never knew a dragon covenant existed. I'm sure it will guide me, I just know it. Thank you, friend." 

They turned to leave, but Eira turned back, a wise sparkle in her eyes that Ornstein had never witnessed. It frustrated him. "Stay safe, no doubt there are people who still want to hunt you down. The way your gaze suggests, I am certain there are more of your kind. Maybe one day, I'll find them.", the sparkle in the dragons eyes intensified, as though it knew something she didn't, but she would eventually find out. Curious creatures. They departed.

\---------------------

Their departure was held in deafening silence, much like the first time they met. Ornstein was still relatively cold and guarded, but to see her act in such a way was unnerving. She appeared to be deep in thought as they sat perched upon the higher areas of the shrine. Her leather book was in hand, she had began writing. 

"So, noble knight," a sarcastic voice bit, "was the knowledge of your massacre to remain hidden?". Ornstein sighed. He didn't want this conversation. He nodded. "Yes. It is none of your concern." 

Her writing stilled, and he knew in her tense posture that she was annoyed. "if you are to accompany me on this journey, I need information. Whether it be brutal or not, I do not care what type of light you allow me to see you in. My goal is to simply know history." 

Ornstein scoffed, standing stiffly and slowly walking away from their secluded spot. "Come. You want the truth, I shall give it to you. Our destination is Anor Londo." 

Eira cocked her head, confused. So be it. She'd follow. Something told her she was not going to like what she saw.


	5. Reminiscence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obiding by his words, the Dragonslayer leads Eira to a private part of Anor Londo - his trophy room. Needless to say, she does not approve of Ornsteins past massacres. 
> 
> Their tension and anger is slightly eased when the two share a moment of reminiscence and delve into the history of each others childhood. 
> 
> Still, one begins to wonder if they are now closely aquainted, or merely tolerating each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay chapter 5! I really liked writing this - making Ornstein sound humane and all with his childhood anguish and stuff.
> 
> Even though hes a legendary Dragonslayer with elite skill, i STILL like to imagine him as 'normal' in a way, like when he gets flustered, frustrated, etc.
> 
> Hopefully, youll like where im going where this. Everyone loves a bit of fluffy (terrible) memories beside a fire in Anor Londo, right?

The journey there was long, despite the access of bonfire warping. Warping only did so much, while the rest would be on foot. Ornstein had not stepped foot outside the cathedral for so long, he barely remembered the rest of the palace grounds. They halted at the bonfire, where Eira had first saw Solaire in Anor Londo, and sat. 

The room was comforting to her. A small fire was lit, perhaps an illusion, and the bonfires heat radiated throughout the room. Ornstein had reluctantly agreed to stop, and sat across from her, leaning against the wall. Eira now adorned herself with a helmet, and Ornstein felt at a disadvantage at not knowing her expressions. 

She drew in detail the extravagant moving escalator in the main grounds of the palace, believing that one day, far in the future, it would crumble. Her memory for detail surprised him. 2 hours later, they moved. 

Ornstein stopped at a door, sighing. It was now or never. "I am a Dragonslayer, the best of my kind. Dragons were slaughtered, massacred by me. Some young, some old. All screeched in fear of witnessing their kin scales burn to ash by lightning." He spoke coldly. He noticed her tremor. 

He opened the door. "Only the best were saved to remember". Eira walked in. She froze. Her stomach flipped, bile rising. Anger bubbled under the surface. Lining the entire room, were the heads of dragons. Some big, some exotic looking. All were lifeless. 

Ornsteins voice was hollow. " This is not the work of fellow Dragonslayers. No, this is only by me. I was esteemed enough to obtain my own room of recognition. I taxidermied them myself, sometimes.", his gauntlet smoothed over a red dragons dead face. "At the time, I thrived with pride, craved the blood, the death, the ear splitting screech to signal their demise, the wild fear in their eyes", he had slowly walked to the next dragon, black and one eyed. "Times change, I suppose."

His back was to her. "So, you are not only a pompous, prideful bastard, but also a slayer with bloodlust to hunt down an ancient group of beasts.", she spoke coldly in return. 

Ornstein scoffed. "You believe this to be cruel?", he turned to her, and at that moment, he was a stranger to her. "A lowly human such as yourself has no place forging opinions of someone as esteemed as me."

Eira glared through her helmet, stepping forward to meet his challenge. "You do not scare me. You are a mere blood crazed fiend, the death of thousands simply not enough for you." 

She noticed his grip tighten on his spear. He stepped closer, posture straight and proud, like the time she first met him in the cathedral. He dwarfed her, power exuded through his stance. The snarl of his helmet sent a shiver down her spine. Static crackled around him. He laughed. "If it were not for my lady's wishes to protect you...", he trailed off threateningly.

He was angry, so angry at this lowly woman for daring to judge his past. Her words were not the source of his pain, no, it was the memories of a childhood passed. Lost in his own frustration, he saw her flinch at the movement of his hand. His anger instantly faded into underlying shame and regret. His past, his opinions and his feelings should not be directed at this woman. 

He heard her whisper. "I do not respect this side of you, Dragonslayer. Do not reveal it to me again." He watched her petite figure stroll out of his room of accomplishment. They had bickered plenty, demonstrated anger and even said biting offences, yet never has she reacted with such sadness. A part of him hurt for her. A part of him was ashamed. 

\--------------

How could he be such a fool? When had he started to care? It was not his intention to hurt her, but...

Ornstein shook his head. She would never understand. And now she would not speak, refused to regard his presence. 

Eira followed Ornstein through the many halls, he had led her through secret passages to long deserted parts of the palace. All paths had been destroyed, only those who know its secrets can navigate to the areas. Therefore, the private quarters of the silver knights, the bathing area, and many of the armies facility areas were abandoned for thousands of years. 

Eira had decided then and there that she would reside within the quarters of Anor Londo to study it's history from the vast library. No human has ever stepped foot there, and that was an opportunity Eira couldn't deny, no matter how much she detested his presence as of late. 

To learn of the Gods would mean to reside in their home, and that is exactly what she would do. All her books and scrolls had been gathered, courtesy of her fiend of a knight, and meanwhile, she strolled through the secret corridors of the palace, free from the husks of silver knights. 

Ornstein had briefly departed with a farewell as he left for the shrine to gather her belongings, which was a considerable amount of items, and had muttered almost shyly about her exploring if she so wanted to. 

According to the layout, they were in the south side of the castle, and there was hundreds of rooms to search through. Most were the rooms of silver knights with old, dusty items left in their wake. It was hard to believe that they were living, breathing people at one point. 

Drawn pictures of men and women were scattered in many of the rooms, possible lovers, she thought. The paper had became brown and crumpled, though preserved well for its age. The sight of normal humans drawn on paper made her sentimental. It took moments like these to truly allow her to realise the dire situation the world was in. 

Ornstein had returned after about an hour, she had witnessed him walking along the training grounds, arms full of books and the sort. From her position in the knights rooms, the training grounds was incredibly far down. 

She would not help him. Turning her nose away from him, she ventured through a sectioned off group of quarters, possibly given to the more elite knights. They, too, held sentimental pictures of lovers, families and friends. Some had peculiar, eastern instruments, perhaps gathered during their travel.

What intrigued her the most was an ancient book on folk songs from Astora. She hailed from there. The book had to be at least 1500 years old, if her calculations were correct. Smoothing over the written words gently, her eyes scanned the preserved pages, smiling gently at the artwork of a popular field in Astora, one her mother would gush about in her childhood. 

She remembers the religious festivals held there, how flowers would bloom and children, like herself, would run wild with joy and laughter before being scolded by their mothers. Brave Astoran knights would flaunt proudly, helping all those in need, and Gwyn was praised heavily. She never praised him, though that remained secret at the time. 

Her mother was an avid way of white supporter, and believed any thing else to be blasphemous. Sighing, Eira allowed herself to reminisce, reading over the old Astoran English, a story of a maiden and a knight, and how their life and children and farm would flourish if they saw the light in Gwyn. It was stupid, really, but she supposed it was a strict life back then, probably beaten if unwilling to believe. 

Hell, she was beaten a few times for her sly comments of Gwyn, but she merely shrugged it off. Her sibling had not. 

Searching through the brittle drawers of the room, a book lay hidden beneath piles of cloth, and upon further inspection, Eira could not help but giggle.

Of course, it was expected. Dirty and perverted poems and songs were written for the amusement of many, especially with a drink in hand. At one point, she told them for money. So it was only Ornstein that was stuck up, then? The rest of the knights appeared to have good humour. 

A cough broke her concentration about the story of a big busted farm worker who would sneak young men into her barn and apply an aphrodisiac to them through the use of her peculiar orange cake. How bizarre! But it certainly was entertaining. 

"I see you have found the quarters of the higher ranked knights.", spoke a smooth voice. He appeared confusingly neutral. Eira nodded. "Indeed. Your knights certainly have interesting taste", she held back a laugh.

Ornstein tilted his head, eyes fixed on the book in her lap, "Do tell.", Eira nonchalantly threw him the book, the page illustrating a bar maiden bearing her chest elegantly. He snapped the book shut. " Yes. Well. I can confirm that working alongside many men would bring about many..interesting topics." 

Eira sighed loudly, "Oh, and let me guess, someone such as yourself would never partake in a bit of fun and humour". She heard him shift from foot to foot. "Correct. Partly. It is of little importance, however." He turned to leave.

Eira leaped, "Hey, now! Did you just say 'partly'? As in, you would sometimes actually partake in lewd humour?!", the laugh wasnt even disguised as she mocked him, utterly shocked. She believed him to be a complete prude, shying away from women. 

She could practically feel his eyes rolling. "I am not a child, Eira. My experience and knowledge of such situations DOES allow me to partake in light bantering.". He already knew that he had spoke too much.

It was silent for a moment, then the snickering began. His face reddened beneath his helmet. Then a boisterous laugh was released. "Forgive me, but i cannot imagine someone such as yourself with an ounce of", she giggled, "experience."

Ornstein huffed, throwing the book back at her to catch. "I believe it is you who is a child, now.", the irritation vanished from his voice, now replaced with confidence. "Far more experience than someone such as yourself.". Her speechlessness brought a smug feeling to his chest. 

Eira stood calmly, books of various adult humour in hand, as she squeezed passed him in the doorway. Her chestplate touched his. She intended to embarrass him. He heard her hum. "Are you so sure about that?" A smooth voice replied, and Ornstein physically blanched at how seductive she sounded. 

Eira laughed and pushed passed him, " Do not assume with me, Dragonslayer. I have stories that would make even your most crude soldiers blush.". She walked out. 

Ornstein stared after her, for longer than he'd ever admit. He shook his head and chuckled. She certainly seemed the type. Closing the door to the old room, he followed her leisurely. 

\-----------

Ornstein had left her to herself for quite sometime, retreating to a part of the castle she did not know of. He did not say where or why. Perhaps it was personal. Meanwhile, Eira happily scanned over the belongings of knights once more, each Astoran poem and picture strengthening her memories of her own childhood. 

The next room was a females. It was clear, by the feminine clothes and the pictures on the walls of herself. What Eira did not expect to find was a drawn, detailed picture of many silver knights in only their helmets and waist armour, some posed to be funny while others posed to look attractive. Eira scanned their bodies, they certainly were strong. All had defined abs and arms. 

She smiled. Her past self from years before would have absolutely adored this picture. In fact, bedding a knight was a normal occurrence for her at the time. Now she felt older, even when she technically was not. Priorities change, she supposed. 

"Ah, I see you have found the gossip of the palace, the picture of the knights.", drawled a voice from the doorway. He certainly enjoyed sneaking up on her. Eira continued to look at the picture with amusement. "I can see why it would be popular amongst many."

Ornstein shrugged. "Perhaps. Truth be told, I despised posing for that.". Eira dropped the picture. She turned to him slowly. "You're in this picture!?" She shrieked. That cannot be!

He picked the paper up from the floor, inspecting it closely. He hummed in thought. "I am. I was a mere young man at the time, fresh into the ranks of the knights. Of course, many people naturally coerced the new boy into posing for a humiliating photo.", he spoke sarcastically, though a tinge of amusement was there. 

"And which one are you?", Eira hoped the overwhelming curiosity and excitement was not in her voice, though she knew a part was. What did he look like? Ornstein breathed a laugh, shaking his head. "Wouldn't you like to know. Unfortunately, I will not tell a soul."

Eira pouted. 

They soon left the room, in search of a new destination. All was quiet, and Eira wondered if the harsh bickering they had from the trophy room would be addressed. Perhaps it already had been. After all, he had been acting very calm to her, and had even indulged her with answers. The Ornstein she knew would do no such thing, let alone joke with her. Perhaps this was his way of apologising. It could be nothing else.

They sat eventually, situated within a small living area, perhaps a common room for the knights to relax. Eira sighed, it was now it never. She pulled out leather book, and saw Ornstein tense. He knew. 

"Ornstein?"

"Hm?"

"Earlier you were less than acceptable, but i began to wonder. What exactly caused such anger? Is it the mere subject of your past, or something more?"

He sighed. He agreed to aid her on her quest for knowledge, and so he must speak. "It is not your comments which ignited anger within me, it is the memory I hold from a long time passed". He spoke smoothly, confidently, as always. Deep down, perhaps he was the opposite. 

Eira listened. He shifted slightly on his seat. "To put it simply, my village as a boy was destroyed ruthlessly by dragons." 

She paused, thinking over his words. Understanding etched its way into her mind. "What happened?", she whispered.

She heard him scoff, a defence mechanism, no doubt. "What do you think? Line up a queue of innocent people and burn them to death, then you shall see.", he hesitated, " it was not that which invoked my ire towards them. It was witnessing my family scream and burn before me."

His voice began to sound distant, as though his mind were in a different place. Eira wrung her hands together nervously. She was shocked that he even admitted that. "Explain."

Ornstein nodded. He had to do this. "My village was small, the highest form of work being a mere farmer. Everybody was content despite the poverty. My mother had sent me out one day to collect firewood and check the fishing traps for food. I was 13."

Eira could see him struggling, but his poise and dignity remained. He would not falter. "However, I did not listen. I wandered far, attempting to chase down a small calf for dinner. Surely my mother would be happy with this compared to small fish, and that is what I did. I wanted her to be proud."

He leaned back, legs spread comfortably as his forearms rested on his knees, his gaze upon the ground. "My stupidity saved my life. A fire like no other burned brightly in the distance. The shadow of a beast was cast in the sky and I knew. It came as quickly as it left."

Ornstein stood. His nerves were getting the better of him, and he did not want to appear weak. "I ran back. And the sight,", he hesitated, "the sight is something that I will never forget. My mother died in my arms, burns scarring her flesh to the point of distortion. Her last breath told me to run." 

Ornstein steeled himself, voice cold. "That is why i swore to become the greatest Dragonslayer of all time, destroying their families as they did to mine. In truth, revenge clouded my mind for far too long."

Eira felt a weight in her chest at his admittance. "I do not wish to say anymore.", he muttered. Eira sighed, "Please? How about this, give me information about whatever I ask, and I'll gladly do the same. A weakness for a weakness". He appeared to deliberate for a moment, before finally nodding. "Fine, but not yet. Gather your questions, we will continue this later."

\------------

Once again, Eira had no idea where he had wondered off to. She scoured the vast library for information, perhaps the library would hold private knowledge. She found some, such as books about the royal family, the exact information she needed. Other books were about the sunlight warriors and darkmoon blades. It seemed interesting enough. Eventually, she knew her journey would have to continue to the last and final place, lost Izalith, but for now, she had much to do.

Time passed quickly, and in truth Eira wondered how her eyes hadn't burned out at all the reading. Sitting back, Eira pulled her helmet off for a moment to breathe clearly, see clearly. A sigh of relief was emitted, and she smiled. Little did she know, a certain Dragonslayer had been watching. Not on purpose, of course. He was merely bypassing...

His eyebrows rose. Her back was to him, and he noted that her hair was braided and wrapped into a bun. He shook his head, dismissing the thoughts. He coughed. "Come. Let us get this over with, then."

He saw her jump slightly, and reach for her helmet, hiding herself once more. She turned. Ornstein led her to the common room again, a small fire lit. It was cosy. 

She sat on the exquisite looking couch, while he sat on the opposite one, a small table between them. Eira unfastened her gauntlets, cracking her fingers as she did. Ornstein couldn't help but look curiously. Her hands were small, but strong looking. A large scar tore it's way down her ringfinger to her wrist. She picked her pen up.

"Right. First question, how does a mere human gain recognition from Gwyn, and become the best Dragonslayer in the world?"

Ah, so she started off with the big ones. Ornstein breathed a chuckle. "It wasnt easy. As I stated before, my village was small, baring no soldiers, no ambition. I ran from that village with only the clothes on my back. Travelling the land was a risk, and there are many times that I admit I almost died.", he paused, "to starvation, or beatings from horrid people."

Eira had set her pen down at this point. He continued. "I stumbled upon the lower levels of the city of God's, where the more poor humans resided. For a long time, I was on the streets, not a penny to my name.", Ornstein leaned back. 

"I was a reckless boy. One day, I followed the soldiers out of the city, and into the barren lands. They did not notice me, for I weaved between trees and bushes. It all went downhill from there.", he appeared to be fond of the memory, regardless. 

"The roar of a dragon was heard, and all men got into position. The dragon was a mere child, though dangerous nonetheless. Knights aimlessly ran at the beast, only to be burned and cooked to death. The vehemence I held for those beasts was strong, and I ran to the nearest dead soldier. I gripped his large sword, wielding it with two hands, and screamed as I ran at the beast."

Eira blinked. "You did what?" 

He continued. "It did not work. It's mouth opened, and I knew what was to come. Fire bellowed out of its maw, and I dived to the side, continuing my charge. Soldiers stood and watched, while some chased after me to protect me. I ignored them all. My focus was on the vile beast ahead of me."

"This, too, did not work. An oncoming sweep of its tail had landed me into a near by tree, breaking my arm. Men continued to assault the beast while it was distracted by me. Men fought and died, unable to pierce it's thick hide with not even their greatest weapons.", he paused, watching her. She was listening intently. 

"And this is how I gained recognition at a mere 13 years old. I screamed at the thing and jumped onto it's back. Soldiers screamed for me to run, to hide. I did not listen. Gripping the sword in 2 hands, I lodged it into the back of its neck. Every man was silent. The dragon slumped, and hit the ground with a thud."

Eira gaped. "Then what? What happened next?". Ornstein smiled. "Soldiers dragged me away from the beast, taking me to get aided. I was in hospital for a while. Havel, I'm sure you've heard of him, visited me one day in the hospital. I was at a loss for words. What was such a high ranking man doing visiting me? He merely laughed, and pulled me to my feet from the bed. He took me to Gwyn."

Eira gasped. "What!?"

"There i was, a skinny boy with a bandaged arm stood before a God. I was wearing mere rags, while highly esteemed knights were all around me. He was fatherly, and kind. He said that if I can slay a dragon child at my age, then he is certain I will be the best slayer in the world once I hit adulthood, for not even his knights can slay a dragon singlehandedly."

They were silent for a moment, and Eira took time to soak up all the information. Ornstein waited. "That,", she began, "is amazing." He could hear the smile in her voice. "What a life you've had! I can hardly believe it." She sighed softly.

Ornstein nodded. "Indeed. Naturally, I was no soldier until I was at least 15, but Gwyn favoured me. He gave me the best education, food, shelter. I was eager to learn, to grow, and he appreciated that. I will forever care for my Lord."

Eira nodded. Ornstein thought for a moment. Eira hummed. "You've given me a piece of your childhood, I will do the same, if you so wish." She shrugged. Ornstein nodded. "Sounds fair. Indulge me whenever you're ready." 

Eira had stood up, strolling over to the large window. She gazed out at the beautiful horizon. "Well, I hail from Astora. My mother was a simple housewife, helping amongst the village when needed, while my father worked in the market trade."

She chuckled. " My mother had an undying love for Gwyn, and would constantly force upon her children her beliefs. I did not believe. My father was, well..", she thought, "A bastard. But my grandfather, now he was my favourite. He was a knight, and would travel often, but when he was home, he would secretly teach me to fight, to survive. I adored him."

Her voice had become softer, sad almost. Ornstein listened. Eira swallowed. "Life was ordinary for a time. My mother would insist on me becoming a religious maiden, while my father would force his wrath upon us whenever he felt like.". Ornstein frowned. 

She turned around suddenly. "Its a boring story.", Ornstein shook his head. "Continue."

Eira sighed. " This is where I began to convert. I started meeting this farm boy. He was sweet, and so caring. But of course, my parents were biased and horrified at my decision. I would run away to meet him by a lake, and he would always bring me presents. What more could a girl want?"

Ornstein chuckled. True. "Things became dark. I came home one day, and my father was waiting for me with a belt. It was not out of the ordinary for me, especially since he forbid me from seeing the boy", she dismissed it easily, while Ornstein did not. It wasnt often he was punished, but his parents never beat him. 

"What was odd was that the house was empty, and in his left hand was a whip, the one he used for the horses. You can imagine the rest", she sighed.

Ornstein had moved to stand beside her, gazing out of the window. She knew he wanted to know. "He found out about my grandfather training me with a sword. He said "you want to be a soldier so bad? Then I'll treat you like a son". He whipped me violently, and if I cried, he promised to kill the boy I cared for."

Eira was silent. " It happened everyday. Every night, just before bed, he would come into my room, push me down and whip me. If I was lucky, he'd use his belt. It was a turning point for me." 

Ornstein growled. " And what happened next?"

Eira breathed. "I killed him. I could tolerate no more of his abuse, so i slit his throat in the night. I was 14." 

Eiras gaze was now downcast. "My grandfather took us both in, while my mother was stuck in an erratic state at learning the abuse her husband had caused. It was not her fault." 

Eira smiled through her helmet, standing shoulder to shoulder, or, rather shoulder to almost elbow with the knight. " It is nothing compared to the rest of my life of traveling, living in poverty, dancing for money, killing for money and more", she laughed. 

"Dancing?", he cocked his head. Eira rolled her eyes. "Surely you've attended such a session? I would dance, sing and tell crude stories for men. It was fun for a while, other than certain individuals."

Ornsteins mind finally caught up. "I see. I have..witnessed them on more than one occasion.", He hesitated, and she huffed. "I know what you are thinking. I'm not a whore. Though I admit that on rare occasion I would accept the money to be bedded if I liked the male. It was no business or anything, just the rare opportunity." She shrugged. 

Ornstein stiffened. "Ah, yes. Right.". Eira laughed loudly, nudging him roughly, though he hardly moved. "You are such a prude, Dragonslayer. The mere topic of adulthood silences you". 

Ornstein thought about nudging her back, though knew that would probably make her fall to the floor. "I appreciate privacy, that is all. It is not my fault that I am partnered with a woman with such an appetite."

Eira smiled. "Men like women with appetites. It was an easy way to make money for a time. After that, I became an assassin." 

Ornstein briefly remembered his group of knights, who always believed him to be prude. His Lord, the nameless king, definitely had an.. appetite. Even his gentle friend Artorias had tried to push him to approach more women. Even Ciaran, his female friend and companion, had told him to get out there. 

\--------------

Their conversations persisted, with talk about Eiras lovers, history and all sorts. But Eira thought for a moment. 

"Surely you had a lover at some point in your, what, over 2000 years of being alive?". Ornstein rolled his eyes.

He grumbled for a moment. "A few. Not many." He spoke with a clipped tone, not wishing to delve into his history despite promising to do so. 

Eira giggled. "Tell me about them. Remember, I need to know you if i am to write about you!". He huffed. Even if he did not tell her now, she would ask him in the future. 

Ornstein shifted. "I was 18. I had a lovely lady named Maya. I fell in love with her, and she was so certain that id marry her, but", he sighed, "that would mean to abandon my work. She was not happy. She left". Eira rolled her eyes. "She sounds delightful to share the night with.", she spoke sarcastically.

She did not expect a response. "Quite the contrary, actually.", he muttered. Eira giggled once more, it was interesting to see the mighty Dragonslayer open up to her, even just a little. 

Ornstein inhaled slowly. There was no doubt that a certain tension hung in the air. He refused to acknowledge it further. 

"I have one last question for now."

He hummed in acknowledgement.

"Smough, that fiend in the cathedral. Are you friendly?"

Ornstein stilled. He appeared tense. He was sat with perfect posture as always, and Eira realised just now big he was. "We are not. He is an Executioner, cannibalizing on his victims. He would have made a valuable knight if not for his vile habit."

Eira nodded, a hand tracing along the length of her hand. Was she really so pale? "I see. I do remember him. I'll be sure to avoid the cathedral."

Ornstein hadn't even thought of the possibility of running into the Executioner. He nodded slowly. "Yes. It would do you well to avoid him." 

Eira stood with a grunt. "Well, all this talking has made me desire an outlet. I will continue my writing for now.".

By now he was standing, hands clasped behind his back. He waited. She faltered slightly. "It was interesting to learn that about you. I mean, for the book. My book. Anyway, goodnight--day? Either one.". She awkwardly manoeuvred passed him, cursing herself for her lack of control.

She thought back to the Dragonslayer as she entered the library. Things really were changing, and she didn't know how to feel about them. 

Ornsteins helmet hid the smirk on his face at her departure.


	6. Delirium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life, for a brief moment, is tranquil. That is, until Eira severely wounds herself with her own pyromancy. As a result, a gut wrenching nightmare is induced, one which includes the Dragonslayer.
> 
> They do not speak for a day soon after the incident. Tension fills the air as the two finally confront eachother, but soon our surprisingly cheeky Dragonslayer lightens the mood.
> 
> Soon, their travels will resume.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter. I couldn't stop myself from writing angsty, tension filled shit. Plus, I thought it a good idea to introduce Eiras passion for her siblings in a tragic nightmare, so her story is subtly revealed.
> 
> This was a chapter to kind of strengthen their bond. Its still worth the read, aside from their travelling chapters.
> 
> ALSO, song Eira sung is called **Eurielle - city of the dead**
> 
> (I happened to be listening to it at the time and felt super angtsy lol)

Time was an odd thing, but Eira believed that half a day had passed before she saw Ornstein once more. Being undead, she had no need to sleep as frequently, and so she busied herself with writing for hours on end. It was bizarre, having no need for food or sleep. Maybe that would change one day. Maybe she'd see humanity once more. 

Eira made her way down to the training grounds, curious about what remnants of history lingered there. She decided today was as good a day as any to practice pyromancy. But first, she entered the barracks of the knights, smiling as the sight of old weapons came into view. They were huge. 

"I got this. Surely my endurance is high enough by now.", she rubbed her hands together, bracing herself. Her hands gripped the handle of a black knight greatsword, and she exhaled. Heaving, she picked it up with shaky hands, breathing heavily. "I did it!". Shakily, she swung it slowly, amusing herself. If she lifted it any higher she would topple over. 

Grunting, she put all her might into swinging it harder. "How in God's name do they wield this thing!?" She growled in frustration, using all her might. Her hands began to shake more, her stance weakening as she felt the heaviness of the sword weigh her down. Gasping, she toppled forward and crashed into the nearby benches. 

Eira groaned. How embarrassing. She hadn't used her souls in a while, and she was getting rusty. 

"I see you have found your own source of entertainment", stated a deep voice mockingly. The force of the blade had made her topple over onto her stomach, the sword stretched out before her. 

Eira lay face down, unwilling to move. "It's a little challenging, yes.". Ornstein raised a brow, arms crossed over his broad chest. "Perhaps far more than just a little.". Eira huffed, "I can do it! Just you see."

She stood up, hands gripping the handle of the blade once more. She hesitated, head turning to him. "You're just going to watch?", Ornstein nodded. "Of course. Someone such as yourself has this under control.", he spoke innocently, mocking her. 

Eira braced herself, she'd show him. Grunting, she heaved the blade upwards holding her breathe, turning to him shakily. "See?". Ornstein stood before her, gazing at her stance. Gently, he pushed her. Eira yelped, completely off balance as the sword tipped backwards towards her. 

The sword did not split her in two, however, as Ornstein had caught the sword with ease, with Eira holding onto it with both hands. She was resting on her heels, body slanted towards the ground with no leverage to move. "You have proven your point. Now let me up". Ornstein tugged the blades handle towards him swiftly, catching Eira off guard as she stumbled into him. 

Yelping once more, Eira tumbled into his chestplate, her helmet clinking against him uncomfortably. "You would be dead if this were a battle." He chastised. 

Eira scoffed, she was still held firmly to his chest. In an instant, her small dagger was pulled out and held to his throat. "Oh yeah? Seems to me like you'd be dead."

Ornstein sighed, she was naive indeed. Too fast for even Eira to react, his hand enclasped her wrist, squeezing it as the dagger fell to the floor. "You would most definitely be dead."

Grunting, she attempted to pull herself free of his grip, but to no avail. She couldnt even make him budge in the slightest. Stepping back slightly, she gazed up at him, and froze as a sharpened point was aimed at her forehead. Memories of their first meeting in the cathedral erupted, and her brain went into fight or flight mode. Conjuring up a swift, malicious fireball, Eira aimed at his helmet. 

Ornsteins eyes widened a fraction. He deflected the direction of her hand with his own, pushing it forcefully to the side of him so the fireball exploded behind him. He released her wrist, stepping back to create distance. 

Eira blinked. "I'm..Sorry?" She spoke slowly, as though in doubt of her own actions, and stared at the hand the flame had came from. " For a moment there, it felt like you was really going to kill me.", she spoke shakily. Ornstein retracted his spear. "I was merely testing you. Your skills need brushing up." 

He picked the greatsword up with one hand, returning it to its place. "The weapon clearly isn't suited for you.". Eira nodded, sitting upon the stone ground. "I have one thing in mind I do need to train. My pyromancy, it lacks quite a bit". Ornstein watched her warily. Pyromancy could be a destructive thing. 

He relented. "Very well.". She practised for a while, with Ornstein dodging fireballs, and watching her strengthen them. The flames had become larger, wilder, and Eira was becoming nervous. "I can do this. There is something in particular I wish to practice.", she pulled out a scroll. "Acid. It's a deadly weapon indeed, but i must learn." 

Eira read the scroll, following it's directions exactly. A boiling hot feeling resided in her palm, one that differed to the usual fire ball, and she swallowed. Meanwhile, Ornstein was in the barracks, glancing over the many weapons stored there. 

Eira nervously glanced at her hand. The feeling of burning was becoming out of control, and she didn't understand why. It frustrated her, and her concentration began to lack. Casting her hands roughly towards the ground, brown acid spat from her hands, smoke rising from the concrete. But the feeling grew. Eiras entire gauntlet was now covered in the acid, the pyromancy within her hand now beginning to burn painfully. 

The magic had no outlet, and began to travel up her arm viciously, eating at her armour. Eira gasped, falling backwards onto the floor in fear. It now began to spit from her hand, acid flinging in various directions, mostly onto her legs. The strength in which it grew was becoming uncontrollable, and Eira winced as the acid burnt through her legs. 

"G-gah!", she screamed in agony, angrily flinging her hand to the side as she shot the acidic substance with a yell, witnessing it splatter a large area of the ground and eat away at it. The searing hotness in her palm faded, but she knew she was burnt. Eira hissed as she inspected her broken leg armour, whimpering at the sight of the acid eating her skin, causing a bright red, bubbly and bloodied area. Her arm had faced the same fate, though no where near as bad as her leg. 

Forcing herself to her strong leg, she put most of the pressure onto it, hopping when she placed her injured leg onto the ground to walk. The pain was becoming unbearable, layers of thick, sludgy blood that had mixed with the acid was cascading down her leg, skin melted and the edges of the wound bubbling. From the angle in which she could see, her arm appeared bright red, and the overwhelming pain made her see black spots. 

Sweating profusely from the pain, Eira dragged herself to lean into a wall, one arm holding her there. Gazing down at her leg through glazed eyes, she felt bile rise in her throat. The pain was unbearable. Reaching up, she felt her nose. Blood? Breath quickening, she collapsed onto the floor, blood surrounding her legs.

Her last bleary and partially conscious memory was of her being lifted. 

\----------------------

\--Dream--

Eira stood before a vast field of corn, a small farm to her left with cows and sheep, while ahead of her sat a large, clear lake. She looked down at herself, she was wearing a simple, white dress that fitted her form. The air was clear and calm, with birds chirping in the distance. 

Eira walked ahead. This place.. was it a paradise? She squinted. Up ahead, the figure of Siegmyer, Solaire, her sister and her brother were visible, all sat happily as they spoke around a campfire. Her siblings were the first to turn, and they excitedly waved her over. 

Tears flowed from Eiras eyes. Her family, Siegmyer.. they were alive? Lifting the bottom of her dress, she ran over with utter joy depicted on her soft features. Her sister held her hand out to her, and Eira sobbed as she smiled through her tears, and reached out. 

Her sister stopped, a horrified and tearful expression on her face. Eiras eyes held confusion, until her gaze met her sisters chest. She screamed.

A spear had plunged through her torso, blood soaking her beautiful, Angel like dress. She collapsed. Eira ran towards her brother and friends in a panic, watching their expressions turn to pain. Fire. When had there been fire? 

Her brother released an ear splitting scream of pain as fire engulfed his entire being. "No! No!" Eira screamed. Siegmyer called to her. "Eira, quickly!". 

Eira ran over as fast as she could, the shadow of beast engulfing Her form from the sky. She dared not look. Solaire reached out to her, and as their fingertips met, a splatter of blood released from his mouth, coating Eira. He gasped, collapsing to his knees. "Eira. Why? Why?" He begged. Eira gripped her hair, eyes frantic with confusion and pain. What did he mean?!

Turning to Siegmyer, she screamed as another spear was plunged through him, his eyes full of betrayal and sadness. He reached out. " Eira, I thought we were..friends?". He faded to dust. 

Eiras throat became hoarse and dry as she screamed louder, tears flooding her face as she gasped for breath. She fell to her knees, the blood of her family and friends staining her being. Shuddering, she froze as a hand touched her shoulder. She turned. A flash of red and gold met her gaze, and she whimpered. "Ornstein?"

The knight kneeled, gripping her hands. "It is I, your knight. I will protect you, I swear it.". Eira whimpered and sobbed, gripping his arms in desperation. 

But he pushed her away roughly, casting her to the ground. His spear pointed at her chest. "Murderer. Deceiver. Betrayer.", he spat, and gazed at her hands. Eira looked down. A bloodied spear lay in her lap, and Eira screeched, kicking the weapon away. "I didn't do it! Please, believe me. I would never kill them!", she weeped loudly, desperately. 

Ornstein stood above her, spear now igniting with a spark of lightning. Eira shook violently, lips quivering. "Ornstein, please. Please! Ornstein, I swear it on all the gods. If I am a liar then Velka shall strike me down!" 

He stopped. Yes, he must believe her now! 

Dark clouds began to brew, vicious lightning hitting the ground all around her being. "Murderer.", a voiced hissed out of thin air. Ornstein regarded her coldly, spear pressed against her abdomen. The tip pierced her flesh, and she screamed. "Ornstein, I didn't do it, please! You are my...you are my friend! Ornstein, please...", her voice became quiet, defeated as the familiar feeling of warmth and pain spread across her abdomen. She wasn't a murderer, she wasn't.. She weeped and closed her eyes. "Ornstein..", she croaked one last time. 

\------------------

Anxiety gnawed at the Dragonslayers stomach as he gazed upon Eira. Setting her down gently, he inspected her injuries with a grimace. Her leg tissue was destroyed, vile clumps of green and red now coating her wound as blood seemed to seep constantly from it. A layer of liquid poured out of her injury, the area around the wound bubbling and crusting. 

He removed his gauntlets swiftly, throwing them to the side. He would have to strip her of her armour, lest an infection would fester. Undoing the clasps of her leg armour, he focused solely on the injury, gently pulling off the iron plate. Her bare legs came to view, and he paused for a mere second to gaze at her skin. He shook his head. Gripping a blanket, he gently set it over her thighs to allow her some modesty. 

Next was her arm. It was blistering bright red, and crusting unpleasantly with small clumps of brown mixing with blood. Working efficiently, he managed to remove her chest plate and arms by lifting her into a sitting position, holding her against him as he did so. Thoughts pierced his mind, but he chose to ignore them. She had clothes beneath, a mere vest and thin trousers which had been clearly ripped, bearing her thighs.

Gently laying her back down, he pulled the blanket from her thighs up further to cover her body, keeping her arms out and her calves. 

Her helmet remained. He hesitated, should he remove it? He supposed it wasn't necessary. But her breathing was harsh and laboured. He removed it.

He gazed at her face, eyes widening at the amount of blood cascading from her nose. He cleaned it up with a damp cloth.

Moving across the room, he picked up a bottle of estus, a concoction of honey and various other ingredients, a few bandages and fresh water. 

"No..", a whimper was heard behind him, and he turned. Her expression portrayed pain and sadness, and she writhed slightly. She was sweating profusely. The acid must be inducing a nightmare. 

Walking over, he swiped her forehead with a cloth, gazing at her. Her silver hair was hanging loosely, partly off the bed due to its length. Her face had scars, but only a few, such as from her ear down to her neck, or the small one beneath her eye. 

Her expression when relaxed appeared incredibly neutral, her eyebrows sat in a straight line, with a soft curve. She would look piercing when awake, he believed. Her face was docile, capable of hiding many truths. He knew many faces like that.

He tore his eyes away shamefully. When had he become so distracted? Years of sitting idly in a cathedral had changed him for the worst, he thought. 

Quickly, he got to work on her leg. Tipping the contents of the estus onto her leg, he gripped her to stop her from flinching. Next, the concoction of soothing ingredients was applied to the angry wound, soothing it and creating an anti bacterial layer. Finally, he covered it in the various bandages he had. 

It took time, and in that time he watched her writhe now and again, a frown on her face. "Please..", he heard her barely whisper. He had had his fair share of nightmares over the years. 

Standing, he stood to her right, kneeling down to tend to her injured arm. It was horrifically red, but he could fix it. Picking up the estus, he got to work. Within his concentration, he had barely noticed her mumbling, but chose to ignore it. Wrapping her arm securely, he stood once more, and sat beside the bed. He closed his eyes briefly. 

\----------------------

"Ornstein!"

His eyes snapped open. Eira was writhing violently on the bed, sweating profusely as tears flowed down her cheeks. "Please, don't.. No..", she mumbled, scowl etched onto her face. He cautiously stood, standing above her form. She was dreaming of him? 

Her speech had became incoherent, and he could only make out a few words. "I swear..to Velka...", she muttered sadly. Ornstein stilled. Velka? To swear upon such a goddess was a danger in itself. But why was he mentioned? 

Suddenly, her face relaxed, though tears still flowed. "My..knight?", she smiled, a small smile, but it was there. Ornstein began to feel uncomfortable. Her waking self would never regard him as such a thing. He knew he should leave. He should have as soon as he patched her up, but seeing her cry, seeing her pain, he...

Ornstein swallowed, forcing any further thoughts from his mind. He would not finish that sentence. 

Remaining above her form, a frown found his face. She was an idiot for injuring herself, and he decided then and there that he was far more comfortable judging her for her mistakes than swooning over her like a woman. She was weak. 

Everything in him refused to actually believe that, however.

Her scream broke his concentration, eyes snapping to her legs as she violently kicked the blanket off. "I swear it, it is not mine! I'm no murderer. Ornstein, please", she weeped violently now, unable to wake from her nightmare. 

Her fists clenched tightly, he watched her face contort into utter sadness. Her words were clear. "You...you are my friend! Please, I swear I didn't do it.", she was quivering, and his hand froze as he moved to wake her. He couldn't touch her, he...

He was her friend? A scoff was bubbling in his throat at the absurdity of her claim, while curiosity seeped into his mind. 

Eira sobbed, a sound of complete agony over taking her voice. "Ornstein, no..", she shouted. His steely wall of protection, the one he had held up for his entire life, cracked slightly at her next words, spoken so softly, so sadly.. " Please dont hurt me, Ornstein.." 

His stoic expression faltered, and he finally reached out to grip her shoulder gently. 

Gasping violently, Eiras eyes snapped open wildly before he had a chance to touch her. Her eyes were unfocused, tears soaking the pillow below her as she breathed raggedly. "Brother, sister!?", she panicked. 

Ornstein touched her shoulder, so gentle he thought he hadn't even done it. "It was a nightmare", he spoke calmly, but her eyes were not. They snapped to him wildly, finally seeing him, and she screamed. 

She slapped his hand away, eyes squeezing shut as she attempted to fling herself from the bed. "No. NO! I will not die, not today!", she chanted constantly, incoherently. 

Ornstein gripped her arms, preventing her from falling onto the floor. "Eira, stop this. I will not harm you.", he spoke soothingly. Eira opened her eyes, staring into the snarl of his helmet. Gazing at the bloodied hands gripping her, she moved to scream once more, but he pushed a hand over her mouth firmly, speaking quickly to quell her anxiety. "It is your blood, your wound! Remember?" 

Eira calmed immensely, breathing through her nose. Slowly, he removed his hand, and stood back. Eira sat up silently, refusing to meet his gaze. She stared at the floor, hair covering her gaze. She was humiliated. She was so, so humiliated.

Yet the tears would not stop. Would not relent. Her arms wrapped around herself, she felt naked in a mere vest and ripped trousers. Ornstein gently gave her a blanket, averting his gaze as he turned his back to her. "I..apologise. It was necessary to remove your armour due to your wounds." 

Once she was covered in a large blanket draped over her shoulders, he turned. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, eyes glassy and red. She was humiliated, he knew. He wanted to speak, to reassure her, but...His pride wouldn't allow him. He snapped his mouth shut. 

Eira stared upon the ground, mind whirling with the dream she had. She brushed passed him quietly, retreating to loneliness for a while. 

\---------------------

Eira had been sat in a large bedroom for sometime, perhaps hours, sectioned off cleverly to avoid many people. She did not know whose bedroom it was, other than it was a woman's. She felt so frail, physically and mentally. Why was she so weak? The tears would not relent, her mind flashing with images of her family and friends. 

A dream as brutal as that hasn't occurred for a while. And even when it did, she never reacted so harshly to it. She had an inkling, a feeling she preferred to deny, that it may be because of that knight, that.. bastard. 

Speaking harshly of him may quell her foreign emotions, which were currently wreaking havoc upon her. She supposed it was partly due to the acid..

But he wouldn't leave her mind. He had cared for her? Had..undressed her? She scoffed. What was the issue? Many had done the same to her, and she to them, when injured. So why was she so affected? 

His voice stuck in her brain, repeating over and over. He was so gentle. It made no sense! She closed her eyes. He had gripped her gently, preventing her from further injuring herself. 

His hand, bloodied and warm and strong was placed over her mouth, and she flushed. A flush of embarrassment, of course. That is what she would force herself to believe. Ah! She had had enough. It was most certainly her delirious state talking, nothing more. 

Emotions were running high, her body most likely had too much adrenaline from the pain, and the acid injury was most likely messing with her mind. She convinced herself of this.

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she stood carefully, reaching for her long, black cloak. Her armour resided with him, and so did the belongings he had brought back from the shrine. She would have to wear her cloak, it was modest enough, but her face would be bared. She resented that thought. 

Forcing her face to appear stoic and cold, she stepped through her door. A walk would do her good, she felt suffocated within this place. Eira glanced out of a nearby window, staring at her own reflection. Her eyes were red and puffy, face stained with faint traces of blood, and her hair released from her usual rope, now cascading freely down her shoulders 

She gripped the mass of thick locks and dropped it onto her back, the length reaching her backside. It was uncomfortable and hot, but it would do for now. She did not particularly care for such frivolties at the moment, anyhow. 

Her crystal eyes landed on the vile scar from her ear, gliding over her chin and down to the middle of her neck, and she grimaced. She soon made her way to the outside grounds, inhaling the clear air. 

A weight settled within her chest, a sadness in her eyes. Her family, she missed them dearly. Inhaling a shuddering breath, she perched herself atop a bench, small breathes white in the chilled air. 

It hurt so badly. The ache in her chest felt like a true wound, a brutal reminder that she was alone. She thought she had steeled herself to such a feeling, but she was wrong. It had grasped her in its vile clutch once more. 

Gently, she reached into her pocket, revealing a small piece of folded paper, the edges ripped and worn. With careful hands, she unfolded the item, a hand moving to cover her mouth as tears flowed down her cheeks. She gazed at a drawing of herself, smiling and youthful in mind, with her brother to her left, a sword in hand with a smug smile adorning his lips, and her sister to her right, clutching Eiras hand with a flower in her other hand.

Meanwhile, in Eiras opposite hand was a small axe, and she appeared proud. She wore a thin, form fitting dress, due to her mother's constant demand that she be a lady, though the weapon in her hand spoke otherwise. Her grandfather had drawn that picture, and she remembered how proud he was of them all. 

Eira folded the paper once more, securely hiding it in her pockets as she brought out a small Astoran book. Her eyes gently glazed over the words of a song she had written from a time past. She breathed, and the words simply flowed naturally. Singing healed her in many ways, hence her love for music, poems. The song often helped her through her roughest times as a mere youth.

"Im scared of what's inside my head  
What's inside my soul  
I feel like I'm running  
But getting nowhere  
Fear is suffocating me  
I can't breathe  
I feel like I'm drowning  
I'm sinking deeper

Rex tremendae majestatis  
Qui salvandos salvas gratis  
Salve me, Fons Pietatis  
Salve me, Fons Pietatis"

She sung smoothly, pitch heightening to an operatic tone as her voice depicted gentleness and emotion. She was a brilliant singer, having worked to entertain at one time in her life. 

Breathing, she came to a stop, reminiscing for her family, her friends, the companions that had fallen for her. She missed them with a heavy heart. She will forever remember them. 

Standing, she gazed up at a nearby roof, and climbed it. Her leg hurt, but she needed to feel a semblance of freedom, she needed to know that she lived, breathed, felt the open air. It was times like this that strengthened her sanity, allowed her to live far longer than most undead. Appreciation. 

Perched on the edge of a room overlooking a cliff, she gazed at the far away peaks of mountains, snow lining their tips. The edge of Anor Londo was quite a beauty. She harmonised once more. 

They had not spoken for a day.

\-----------------

The next day was far better, she believed. Despite the reoccurring nightmare which had her thrashing and sweating, she could finally feel a sense of logic return to her, and she was far less upset and erratic. Eira groaned, she had wasted an entire day! She had done no research, exploring OR planning for their next departure. Honestly, she was beginning to feel married. She rolled her eyes at the thought. 

She began to regret yesterday's actions, wondering if she had been far too dramatic. At the time, she certainly didn't feel that way. Shrugging, she left the room adorning her usual cloak with her hair down. 

Ornstein had had a day to think to himself about the events that had unfolded. It frustrated him to no end that it would not leave his mind. It was absurd, he was acting like a lovesick child. This would need to stop. When he next saw her, he would revert back to his old, calmer and poised self. 

He paused in his thoughts as she entered the far end of the large common room, walking towards him with a fierce expression, eyebrows dipped low as her mouth remained in a perfect line. Her eyes glowed furiously. He froze. 

He moved to speak, but swiftly stopped as she held up a palm. "Before you say anything, we will not speak of yesterday's events. That is now over and done with.", her hands gripped the top of the couch as she leaned against it with her arms. It felt like she was staring through his helmet, eyes unwavering. 

She dropped her hand now, eyes fixated on a small rope on the table. She grabbed it. "Secondly,", she lifted her hair into her hands, tying it swiftly behind her head as he all but stared shamelessly, "im grateful for what you did, but you will forget everything you heard and saw." 

She walked around him now, leaning down to grip a notebook on the table. "You have witnessed a moment of weakness. It will not happen again."

Silence was her response, and she gave a firm nod. "Good.", she turned to leave. Ornstein stood, and she stopped, her back to him.

"You are a fool for injuring yourself like that, it would do you well to learn that. If I hadn't aided you, it could have been a lot more disastrous." He spoke coldly, but it was a mere front, he knew. 

He moved now, elegantly and authoritatively standing in front of her, gazing down at her stubborn gaze. "Secondly, explain something to me. What role did I play in your dream?". Eiras head snapped up at him then, her icy facade melting as she all but gaped. 

She folded her arms. She would bluff, then. "What do you mean? Do not tell me you wish to have me dream of you.", she mocked with fake confidence. Ornstein hummed, amused. 

"Ah, you're right, it must be my undying love for you that deludes me into believing such nonsense.", he drawled, hands waving about somewhat. 

Eira bit her lip nervously, avoiding his gaze. He definitely knew. "What did I say?", she mumbled. Ornstein stood confidently as always, unfazed by such a topic. A part of him enjoyed her squirming. "A mantra of my name. I believe you swore to Velka that you are not a murderer, called me your friend and your knight, and then screamed for me to not do one thing or another".

Eiras coldness melted once more, her cheeks reddening wildly. Ornstein tilted his head. Her expressions were peculiar. "You are red.", he stated simply.

Eira guffawed, cheeks blushing further. "I--what--would you stop!? Jeez, leave a girl be.". Ornstein blinked. This version of her was the complete opposite one to the confident, bawdy one she had demonstrated to him a few days ago. Perhaps her helmet was her safety, creating a false ego. 

Eiras voice had heightened in pitch, squeaking shyly. "And stop your staring!" She folded her arms. Ornstein put a hand to his chest. "Oh, my sincerest apologies, Lady.", he drawled sarcastically. He was making fun of her. 

Her face was now a cherry, and a part of him could not help but find it alluring, a word foreign to his vocabulary. Eira sputtered for a moment, before turning away childishly, arms folded. "I refuse to speak to you if you mock me."

Ornstein sighed. " Fine. Now turn around.". She did. Her eyebrow twitched at the sight of him bowing dramatically, hand held to chest once more. "I am your humble knight, lady", he joked. Eira pushed him slightly, a giggle erupting from her lips. " You are insufferable! Do not make fun of me", she giggled once more. He chuckled deeply. 

Eiras breath hitched. What were they doing? Ornstein had never acted so carefree before...

Apparently, he noticed too, and swiftly straightened his posture. A small smile lingered on her lips, and she blinked up at him. "You're my friend, aren't you?" A mischievous glint met her eyes. She opened her arms wide, walking towards him. "Surely a friend and a knight of mine wouldn't refuse a hug?"

Ornstein raised a brow. Oh, now she was playing. He opened his arms in return, he would win the challenge. " Of course."

Eira froze, gazing at his wide, tall form, and the space between his arms. What if she did hug him? She shook her head. A pout soon met her lips. She huffed. "Alright, alright, you win! Now cease your teasing", she turned on her heel, aiming for the exit. " We are departing soon."

She turned at the doorway, and hesitated. She breathed. "I will say this once. My dream was.. terrifying. You, specifically, along with a multitude of events. So, thank you for caring for me.". With a nod, she left.

Ornstein gazed after her. He felt hot suddenly, but a small smile made it to his face regardless. Somehow, he already knew where this would lead, and stubbornly, he chose to ignore the thought.


	7. Bittersweet Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering from her foolish mistake with Pyromancy, Eira has decided it was time to travel once more to Lost Izalith.
> 
> Except, memories of a life gone by resurface after centuries like tiny fragments merging together. Ornstein learns of the tragic infliltration Eira had began on Anor Londo, and that her son was lost due to malnutrition during Dragon raids.
> 
> She doesnt know that he was, in fact, there the whole time - that he was a driving figure in the catastrophe of that day. 
> 
> Regardless, their discussion promptly ends - it was time to traverse the Lost City. A beacon of light shines through upon stumbling across Solaire, but where has his hope gone? 
> 
> An unforgettable encounter with the witch and her daughter's reveals the bitter truth of feelings that shouldve been shared a long time ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadness ahead
> 
> Praise the sun
> 
> Warning - i cried so much writing this lol, i was so immersed. Ill admit the detail isn't as good as i wanted it to be but ill probably edit this at some point. 
> 
> We learnt a lot today fellow readers :( pls enjoy and forgive the sadness I created

This trip would be long, she just knew it. Entering an underground cavern of fire and demons was probably the last thing on her bucket list. And yet, it had to be done, for her work was her life. In all honesty, she was particularly interested about witnessing the architecture of the lost city, and excited about finding any scrolls or pyromancies along the way.

Of course, to her and the majority of humans, the lost Izalith was merely a legend untouched by any undead - it was simply too difficult to traverse. 

Gripping her cloak, she departed her room in search of Ornstein. He had been sitting restlessly in the common area, a book in hand with an image of Gwyn on the cover. 

Beside him lay the armour of a silver knight. Gazing up from his book, he gestured towards said armour. "It would be foolish to traverse a city of lava in a mere cloak. I managed to find the smallest female silver knights armour, hopefully it will fit. It was a difficult find - not many of my kind are as small as you."

Eira blinked, hands gliding over the armour. "I do not think I have the endurance to wield this along with my man serpent sword.". Ornstein hummed for a moment, and pulled out a dull ring. "I believe this will suffice."

Eiras bare hand gripped the ring from his palm, fingers grazing his armour. She inspected it closely and it's initials. She gasped. "Havels ring? The Havel?", she slipped the ring onto her middle finger, her body feeling lighter immediately. Excitedly, she removed her cloak, revealing her vest and trousers once more, but she hardly cared.

Ornstein coughed and glanced to the floor. Once Eira had equipped the armour, he looked at her once more, her helmet in her hands. She moved around experimentally, clenching her hands, jumping, rolling. Ornstein rolled his eyes. She smiled. "I like it, it's sturdy and the ring allows me to move freely! I do not like the helmet, however. I will use my assassins mask for now". 

He nodded, standing to his feet and gripping his spear. Eira moved to a nearby desk, equipping her estus flasks, small knife, and retrieving the bag of humanity that she had kept. For a moment, Eira fiddled with the ring on her finger, the gauntlets set on the table, and Ornstein glanced at the vicious scar running from her ringfinger to her wrist. 

What a peculiar scar. "That scar, from where did it occur?". He had walked over at this point, glancing at her hands. He watched her shrug nonchalantly. "I was to be married at one point in life, sold to a prince somewhere in the far East. I was captured as a slave at one point or another for openly preventing the execution of a princess, and so they shipped me to the east in fear of my capabilities."

Ornstein quite literally gaped. That was uncommon, indeed.

She gazed upon the scar once more. "He carved a permanent ring around my finger, to forever symbolise that I am his. In return, I sliced off his ringfinger and kept it as a mockery to the eastern kingdom."

Ornstein blinked. "Ah. Just another day for you, then?". Eira chuckled and nodded. "Absolutely.". Both began to walk to the nearest bonfire tended by a blade of the Darkmoon, and Ornstein began to think. "Did you come to Anor Londo in your time? Specifically, 1000 years ago."

Eira nodded. "I did. My memories are faint, very faint. Sometimes, memories come and go. I do remember knights, though. I remember the brilliant architecture, so sandy in colour. It was always sunny."

Ornstein nodded. "And were you still an assassin?". Eira nodded once, her expression telling him to get to the point.

Ornstein stilled, a memory forcing it's way into his mind. With a confused frown, he spoke: "Then surely you remember the infiltration of the castle grounds? The rioting? It was a considerable concern, fear spreading amongst the entire city." 

Eira blinked. As though on cue, the memory became fresh in her mind, a memory she had forgotten for many years. "Oh..that. If there is ever a time that I admit I got lucky, it was that fateful day."

Ornstein stopped abruptly, gripping her shoulder. "You were there?". His voice held an urgency. Eira nodded calmly, "I...participated, actually." They sat at the bonfire now, weapons at their side. Ornsteins grip tightened. "I wish to know everything."

Eira quirked a brow and shrugged weakly. "Okay, I'll start from my version of the beginning:"

"It was during the time of my lords banishment. There was uproar, the city was mad. A powerful spell had been cast upon humans, allowing us to forget his name and his face. Many others like myself were angry beyond belief. He was OUR Lord, and yet his father had cast him aside so easily?"

Her face had turned into a scowl, and she gripped her hands tightly. "Many people supported Gwyn. Some of us preferred his son, for he interacted with the people, gave to the people, acted like one of the people! Where was Gwyn and his mighty God's and knights during the months of poverty? When the dragons had obliterated the humans and their food supply!?" 

"Many of my dear friends died, or simply starved to death. So many children died, and yet these gods that we are forced to pray to - where were they? The Firstborn was the only face to show, to help, to give his life for the people."

Ornstein was as still as stone, silently listening. He watched her stare into the fire with a ferocious snarl. 

"After everything he did for us, he was banished. Why? What for? The humans panicked, for we had no Godly figure or protection once he left."

She breathed slowly. " The gods and their idiotic knights chose to ignore us, to lock their gates to the castle as silver knights beat the crying men and women of their city, the ones they had originally sworn to protect."

Ornstein flinched at her words.

She shook her head in disgust. "I could not sit by as my kind were abandoned, treated as mere animals to be caged, without their god! A man under the name of Sigrid gathered his best men from the slums and the upper city, and we both infiltrated the palace."

"Many of us died, but me and Sigfrid managed to truly get within the walls, as I was mere moments ago!", she pointed in the direction of said palace. "I felt fear, true fear. I heard a bellowing voice declare that 4 knights are to be scattered through the castle, in search of intruders. Very elite and pretieged knights, I'd guess."

"The corridor was empty, our goal was to find Gwyn, whether we died or not. We wished to speak to him, and take his riches, and if he declined, his youngest boy was to be murdered. We had little clue who said child was, only that he was frail for a God."

Ornsteins fists clenched.

"I..had never seen anything like what I saw that day. A giant, at least 15 feet tall, was wielding the largest greatbow I had ever seen in my life from down the vast corridor. Sigrid had scoffed, offending the man. But i knew, that if we were to simply stand still and mock, his arrow would have skewered us onto the wall."

"I do not know why a giant was within the walls, but he was fierce and he had his wits about him, unlike most of his kind. We ran and jumped out of the high window, climbing the palace walls."

Ornstein now appeared increasingly agitated.

She sighed. "Of course, it did not end there. I do not know how or where, but bolts of lightning were being shot at an alarming speed towards the roof, and Sigrid fell."

She gazed sadly into the fire. "I gripped his arm, and he shook his head and shouted for me to continue the mission. A final explosion of lightning had pierced through his back, and he fell, right to the bottom, face full of agony and shock."

"I knew I could not survive, for there was Godlike knights patrolling every inch of the palace. But then.."

She smiled.

"A woman, about my height, guided me safely from the palace. She appeared to be an assassin. I don't know what she was doing atop a roof, but she gripped my hand nonetheless, and stealthily led me from the castle in a silver knight suit of armour, much like the one I am wearing now."

"We were stopped. The woman appeared to be speaking to her captain, for that is what she called him. I stood stiffly within my knight armour, an intruder on the very grounds. Clearly, this woman was part of the palaces defense, and had betrayed them for the humans."

Ornstein was now fidgeting. "Did you see the captain? I may have known him."

Eira nodded. "Briefly. He was tall, and he was angry. Seething. He roared at passing knights to secure the castle, and scour the areas. The woman beside me was confident, unfazed by his wrath. If she had turned me in, I dare not think what he would've done." 

A grimace was set onto her face. " My eyes remained glued to his feet as he and the woman spoke, until he finally adressed me. A fear like no other pierced my soul." 

She swallowed. "He demanded that I scour the West wing, to which the woman stated that I was given orders to remain by her side. His head snapped to me, and I lifted my gaze."

Ornsteins eyes became cold, distant. "And what did this man look like?"

Eira gripped her hair, eyes shut. "I..I do not know. Through the foggy memory, I remember his eyes."

Ornstein stilled.

"Yes, his eyes. Piercing and cold, as though he cared little for his own companions. They were cruel. Other than that, there is one other detail."

"His scar. A deep, purple scar surrounding his throat, as though he were mauled by a beast. Other than that, I do not remember him."

Ornstein nodded slowly, voice hollow. "Continue."

"I remained calm, but the bastard in front of me invoked such ire within, I had wished to murder him then and there, godlike or not. Shouldn't a Captain be defending the cities people?"

She placed her head in her hands, and repeated the words he had spoken:

"One of the cretins is gone. The other one, a wench, lives. I will do far worse when i find her."

She spoke the words slowly, memories flooding her mind. All this time, how could she forget? She gripped her hair once more in frustration.

"I was safely guided from the castle grounds, by a woman none other than the knights who were told to kill me! She revealed that she had agreed with my revolt, and swore to help the humans as much as possible without being caught."

She huffed angrily. "My mind would not leave that damn captain. I simply could not forget. As fate would have it, he caught up to us, sword in hand. At the time, i was readying myself to climb a horse. He witnessed my fellow friends pushing me to run, and I knew that he knew I was the infiltrator."

She shuddered. "I ran, but not for long. A bolt of searing hot lightning had pierced the flesh of my ribs, burning my skin to mere dust."

She smiled a ghostly smile. "I spun swiftly during my fall, and threw my knife at his face. As luck would have it, a gash from his cheek to his jaw was visible. I ran soon after."

Eira began playing with her knife, carving into the floor lightly. "I left the bastard with a parting gift, and he to me. An eye for an eye, I suppose." 

She scoffed and stood, back facing him. "Treacherous - thats what he is. I hope hes hollowed out somewhere."

Ornstein remained eerily silent. 

Eira glanced at him. "Were you not a captain at the time?"

"I was not."

He lied.

\----------------------

They stayed beside the bonfire for some time, with Eira trying desperately to think over her memories. She had truly met her Lord! After all this time, she had forgotten. She knows not his name or face, but his kind deeds stuck with her. 

Eventually, after hours of silence, Ornstein spoke. 

"That woman which helped you. Did she stay true to her word? Did she truly help the humans?"

Eira nodded. "She did. She was so very kind, giving the poor money and loaves of bread. We respected her, and swore her identity to secrecy. But many a time, she was seen travelling with a man of imposing stature, very tall. Initially, he frightened many of us, but he was awfully polite."

Ornstein could not believe his ears. Her entire story had repeated within his head over and over like a mantra of torment. For the first time in perhaps a thousand years, his eyes felt glassy. 

But she was right, wasnt she? His kind had allowed the helpess humans to rot, to starve. He remembered the day of the riot. Remembered the many humans who worked together, who cried for their lost ones, who never stopped no matter how much the knights beat them. Who pleaded to receive an ounce of help. 

Ciaran had not spoke to him for weeks after the affair. Not as a friend. At every gathering, she'd leave or ignore him. Her tone of voice was icy and dead. Artorias had spoken to her on many occasions about that. 

And Eira.. why did he not remember her? Glancing over to her, her features appeared to be displaying a scowl of confusion too. 

He felt a sickening anxiety seep into his stomach. 

"How odd,", she narrowed her eyes at him, "That I do not remember you from the riot, despite the fact that we were both probably within close proximity." 

He nodded mutely.

Her frown deepened. "Surely you saw me? I was chased by all. Though, my hair at the time was not silver, it was blonde."

His head snapped in her direction. 

She appeared to not have noticed. "At the time, I was shorter, my hair was too."

She shrugged and gave him a weak smile, though her eyes held conflict. "What matters is that I am here, and you are here. The only two remnants of an age passed. How bizarre."

"We were practically on two sides of an opposite war, and now here we are."

He heard her exhale a sigh. "Let us be going. We have a lost city to explore." 

Ornstein followed silently. 

\--------------------

Bypassing the egg infested men and the peculiar, albino firekeeper, Eira pointed towards a fog wall. "Already? Well, theres certainly no way across the lava below us, so we'll have to face whatever is on the other side of this wall."

The knight nodded, stepping through. Beyond them stood a path overlooking a cliff. Eira had jogged on ahead, coming to an abrupt halt as the unsettling, multiple eyes of a lava monster stared back at her. It didnt move. 

Grabbing the ancient garbs settled upon a little rock turned out to be the very key to this monsters wrath. It was evident that this being was discharging lava upon the ground, flooding the area in a fiery liquid.

Ornstein took care of it swiftly, promptly chastising her for angering such a monster. The knight scowled - the entire time he fought that thing, Eira was simply inspecting the useless garbs. With an eyeroll, the small woman walked passed him and backtracked. It appeared that a new path had opened up beneath them.

Blue eyes scanned the surrounding area. Lava had still engulfed the land, save for a strip of concrete amidst the fiery liquid. Sweating profusely, Eira rubbed her forehead and swiftly made her way past the egg infested people once more.

Ornstein followed closely, the heat permeating his armour uncomfortably. He had taken care of the considerable amount of demons waiting patiently for an intruder, while Eira walked along a cliff overlooking more lava, with safe ground ahead. That is, until she heard a familiar sound.

An invader, a pillager of the innocent. There he stood silently, spiked armour dripping with blood. No doubt from other innocent people. They stared each other down. 

"A sunlight warrior?" He scoffed. "Pathetic, the lot of you." 

Eira clenched her fists, equipping her relatively unused Uchigatana. Speaking of her assassin days gave her the desire to live them once more. 

He rushed at her. Ornstein had appeared on cue, but he merely watched. She had that sword in her hands, and a part of him wished to know if she fought the way she did many years before. 

He stood back. He would help only when necessary.

The red hued man appeared to be laughing. "Ah, it is you!", he shouted as he charged in her direction. "A certain knight has scoured high and low for you, my dear." He spat, swinging his sword wildly at her. 

Eira danced around his attacks effortlessly, her Uchigatana slicing into his leg as she rolled. The man grunted, and rolled at her. She gasped as the offending thorns pierced her armour. 

"Which knight?!"

"An embraced one."

The battle did not last long, for he was merely all talk and no bite. Brought to his knees from the brutal gashes to his legs, Eira stood behind him and gripped his head backwards, bearing his throat. "May you rot.", she seethed, her uchigatana slashing his throat brutally. Blood splattered for a moment, before he was reduced to mere dust. 

Yes, Ornstein remembered now. This was most certainly the woman from all those years ago. The knowledge would remain a secret for now. 

Ornstein kicked off of the wall he had been leaning on, calmly walking towards her. " That was brutal, even for you.", he observed. 

Eira nodded. " Yes. However, the memory I now remember - it has changed me. A long lost part of me has now returned." 

She walked ahead of him, but turned to look back. Her silver hair had been tied high and was blowing in the faint wind, her crystal eyes piercing into his armour. Blood was painted across her cheek, her mouth hidden by the mask. 

"Let's make haste.", she ran ahead.

Ornstein gave a small smile. She was similar to Ciaran, though he was not surprised.

Eventually, the two had easily navigated the ruins, defeating every demon in their path. Eira picked up every item and soul she could find, and after a tad more walking, they came to a vast opening, a room, with tree branches forming a path to a fog wall. Eira breathed. "I do not wish to find out what is behind that door." 

Ornstein gripped her shoulder. "We will prevail."

They entered. 

Eira did not expect a fiery centipede to be her opponent, and promptly stood back as Ornstein took control, and skewered the beast with his weapon. That is, until it grabbed Eira in its many legs. She screamed. 

Ornsteins eyes widened a fraction, his body acting on instinct. Reeling a hand back, he released a powerful blast of lightning with a shout, to which the insect dropped Eira and writhed upon the floor. 

It squirmed, until finally it lay still, dissipating into mere dust. Eira picked up the ring upon the floor, and cocked her head. "I assume this will be useful."

Ornstein nodded, though the sight of her staring at him through narrowed eyes shocked him momentarily. She put the ring upon her finger, and walked over to him. "That attack you just did - it was certainly powerful." She stated, and an odd look had graced her features.

Ornstein poised himself. Now was not the time for this. "It was. Let us continue, I believe your friend is seated up ahead", he pointed at the bonfire which was barely within sight. 

Eira gasped. It was Solaire! She sprinted in his direction. 

Solaire barely noticed her arrival, and instead sat with his head clutched in his hands. Eira sat beside him, and gripped his hand. "Solaire, it has been some time! Are you okay?". Her voice held worry and concern. 

Solaire lifted his gaze slowly, and squeezed her hand gently. "Unfortunately, my goal has become far more difficult than I thought.". Once again, he gripped his head, and began whispering about his sun. 

Ornstein briefly glanced to Eira, whose eyes shone with sadness. She gripped his shoulder, smiling. "You are wrong, friend. I believe you will find it, I know you will. Whether it takes days or years, you will find it!", she reassured desperately.

Ornstein now knew the reason for Eira leading many people to infiltrate the castle. She cared for each and every one, and classed them as friends. Their pain was her pain. 

He watched as Solaire gazed at her, before wrapping his arms around her. With a shaky voice, he spoke. "Thank you, friend. Your words are enough to invigorate even a God." 

She wrapped her arms around him too, and held him gently. " You have been a beacon of hope to me, Solaire, allow me to be the same for you. Believe in my words, and in yourself."

He nodded, and gripped her hands once more. Their foreheads touched. "We are companions.", he stated.

Eira gripped his hand tightly. "Always."

Finally, she let him go, and stood. "Would you like to travel with us? I am all for extra company. Who knows, perhaps both our fates lies here."

He appeared to deliberate for a moment, before agreeing. "If I am not imposing too much, then I would be delighted to accompany you." 

Ornstein sighed, and stood to avoid their friendly display. 

"Let us go."

All three left. 

\------------------

Bypassing the many skeletal beings and the fiery lava, all three made it to the next bonfire. Lighting it, they swiftly made their way through the vicious liquid, avoiding the headless beasts and trudging up a small hill which overlooked Lost Izalith. 

"Ah, such a beauty to behold." Spoke the sunlight warrior joyfully. After disposing of the many rock demons, Eira explored ahead, writing within her leather book of the inscriptions upon the architecture of the city. 

Meanwhile, Solaire stood beside Ornstein. 

"I fear for her.", spoke the surprisingly serious voice of Solaire. Ornstein listened. 

"In this life, she has nobody. Her friends are gone and I, too, will vanish one day."

Solaire turned to Ornstein. "If you care, please, do not let her hollow. Let her see the new age, as I'm sure you will. When I am long gone, a mere ancient memory, remind her of her purpose, her memories."

Solaire gazed at him steadily. "When she believes that she is alone, prove to her that she is not. That is all I ask. I know you can do this, you two are close." 

He walked on ahead after saying his peace. Ornstein blinked. They were close? He mulled over Solaires words, finding that the man was hiding something. Perhaps his sanity was decaying. He would keep his word. 

The three of them departed shortly, and quite suddenly, encountered a titanite demon. The demon proved to be powerful, swiping his weapon at Solaire, who barely dodged. A sudden attack from its tail sent him smashing into a nearby wall. The knight stood shakily, blood dripping from the small gap in his helmet. 

"Solaire!", Eira shouted in panic. "Run, we will kill the demon!". Nodding reluctantly, Solaire retrieved to an area beyond the demon. "Thank you friend, I will heal here!"

A mere few minutes later, the sound of screaming could be heard in Solaires direction. Dodging the demons weapon, Eira panicked and gazed passed it, distracted. "Go! I will deal with this beast.", stated the Dragonslayer, and she nodded, running after Solaire. 

True terror froze the blood in her body. Solaire was madly ripping at a thing above his helmet, it's claws piercing his helmet and his head. He shouted in horror, and Eira ran over, gripping the vile parasite. 

It screeched sickeningly, and Solaire screamed in utter agony. He was convulsing madly, and collapsed to the ground. Eira saw red. Tears blurring her vision, she lunged at the insect with her sword. "Get off of my friend!", she screamed, bringing her blade upon its body, cutting it in half just before it had dug its claws in permanently.

Solaire gasped, his body jolting as the parasite had been maimed. He sat up shakily, coughing blood through the gap of his helmet. "I have been poisoned", he whispered, hands holding his blood, which was clumped. 

Ornstein had heard the commotion, and rushed over in haste. Eira turned to him desperately. "He will survive, won't he? The poison can be countered, can't it?"

Ornstein knew the answer, but the sudden look from Solaire told him otherwise. His throat tightened. "There is a cure." 

He lied for the second time that day. 

Eira reached down to pull Solaire up, and hugged him tightly. "Solaire, we will save you. We will destroy the witch swiftly, and we shall counter the poison!", she spoke in a rushed tone, eyes sparkling.

His heart hurt at the look. After using his estus, the pain subsided, but the poison did not. "Do not tell her.", he was desperate. Ornstein nodded silently, but he knew he was a dead man walking.

All three entered the fog wall.

\--------------------

They had not been prepared for the sight ahead of them. A tree with limbs, frantically sweeping the ground they stood on. Ornstein pointed. "There. The witch appears to have weakness on each side of her"

Eira nodded, crouching to avoid the vicious attacks. "All we need to do is to distract it and attack it's weak points"

Her comment made Ornstein think of the infiltration once more. 

Solaire nodded, "yes, we shall be triumphant, friends! I will distract it, now go!", he ran ahead before Eira had a chance to speak, and both her and Ornstein acted swiftly. Both taking opposite directions, they ran towards the red orbs as Solaire distracted the beast.

It worked for a time, but the witch caught on. Her arms shifted, and now faced Eira, who was running madly to the orb. The witch screeched, brushing it's hands across the floor, hitting Eira into the floor. 

Eira gasped, her face hitting the ground painfully as she brought herself to her hands and knees. 

Ornstein pivoted and ran towards Eira, his original task abandoned as he saw her body upon the floor, crawling to escape. The witch lifted a branch like arm, and his entire world froze. 

Eira heard the thumping of footsteps upon the ground, and swiftly glanced back. "Stop!", she hollered, "attack it's weak spot while it is distracted!". Ornstein raced over, and shook his head frantically. "I will not!", he shouted back. Eira narrowly dodged another sweep of the witches arm by catapulting herself out of the way, but a sudden second attack had her slamming into a wall, collapsing into a heap.

Eira was still fierce, however, and he saw the blood dripping down her forehead. "Ornstein, no! Trust me! Don't you trust me?" Her eyes were alight with determination, and he steadied himself as the ground shook. 

The faces of his lost companions were etched into his mind. Trusting Artorias' confidence had got him killed, trusting Goughs intuition of Artorias situation had got him lost forever, and Ciaran had disappeared. 

Not again.

He gritted his teeth and ran towards her. Gripping her roughly, he pulled her aside just as the floor beneath her collapsed, and she fell into his arms, face pale. 

A sudden screech was emitted from the witch, and both looked to realise that Solaire had done the deed for them, destroying a red orb to the witches right. Solaire suddenly faltered and collapsed to his knees, the poison overriding his body. He smiled weakly. "Not yet, Solaire, not yet.", he whispered, and forced himself to his legs. 

Meanwhile, Eira had made a dash to the closest orb, to her left and gasped as the floor suddenly collapsed before her. The gap was large, and she knew she could not jump it. Gripping Ornstein, her eyes shone gently. "I cannot get there, Ornstein. You must do it", 

He moved to argue, but she rose her voice. " The entire room is about to collapse! Now trust me, I will be fine!" She shook his shoulder. Ornstein nodded reluctantly, and leaped across the ravine in the floor. He could only trust in her, though his body screamed at him to turn back.

With him gone, Eira frantically searched for Solaire, who was on his knees once more. Rushing over, she dodged a sweep and gripped him, hoisting him to his feet. "You're okay, Solaire, you're okay! Just a little more.", she spoke desperately, and he nodded with a grimace. He will do it for her. 

The ground beneath them shook, and they dived to narrowly avoid their death. The witch was frantic now, smashing the ground with her branches. Eira gripped her hair in panic. "We cannot hope to cross into the middle with her incessant attacking!", she shouted. 

Solaire stepped forward. "I will distract her, you go and end this. ". Eira moved to protest, to dissuade him of his duty, and he gripped her hands. "You will forever be my friend, Eira. Now let me repay you for the many deeds you have done for me. Trust me."

He saw her eyes shine with tears, and she nodded reluctantly. Running ahead, Solaire shouted at the beast and waved his sword. Ornstein dashed over eventually and gripped her arm. "Come on, we must jump to the middle!"

Eira and Ornstein made the leap, with Ornstein gripping her and pulling her up when she tripped. Solaire now stood on an island platform, the only ground remaining. Eira reached out her arms, and Solaire jumped to reach her from the witches middle area. 

Eiras entire world seemed to move in slow motion as her friend was hit by a sweeping attack mid air, and Eira rushed forward, sliding upon the ground to grip his hands.

There Solaire dangled, with mere darkness beneath him. The ground shook violently, and he knew it was only a matter of time before it collapsed. 

Gazing up, his friends tears flowed freely onto his helmet far below her, her grip so tight she was shaking. "No, this will not end, Solaire. Pull yourself up!" She screamed.

Solaire did nothing, merely gazed up at her. He spoke softly. "I am dying, Eira. I am simply proud that my sacrifice ensured your safety." Ornstein was suddenly at he side, pulling her. "Eira, the floor, it is about to collapse!"

She nudged him off roughly, her eyes blurred with tears. She heard Solaire chuckle. "It is odd, is it not? My only thoughts as I near my demise is of how beautiful you are."

Eira blinked through her tears, attempting to pull him up but to no avail. Solaire voice croaked. "The poison - it has seeped into my limbs. I cannot feel my legs, Eira. I cannot move. Please, save yourself, for I am too far gone."

Eira choked on a sob, Ornstein holding her legs from slipping down into the darkness. He closed his eyes with a grimace.

Eira shook her head violently, tugging him harder. "No..no..", she whimpered, choking on her own violent sobs. "Solaire, you are too dear to me to let you die. Please, please"

Eira could barely breathe. She was shaking violently. Solaire squeezed her hand gently. "I have found my sun, Eira.", he squeezed her hand once more, the sensation in his arms fading. "It is you. It has always been you", he croaked. 

Eira began to weep violently now, screaming at him that it doesn't have to end, that she cares for him. He merely shook his head. "Dry your tears, my love. I would do it for you if i could."

She weeped. Her heart and head were pounding, her limbs becoming cold and aching from holding his weight up. She felt his fingers twitch, and she heard him speak gently once more. 

"I cannot feel my back, Eira. The poison is spreading, and slowly I will lose the sensation in my arms." 

Eira screamed, face contorted in pure agony as her eyes became bloodshot with tears. "Don't say that! I will help you! I will..", she whimpered. 

Solaire squeezed her hand for the last time. "You have been a dear friend, Eira. My sun, my stars, my everything. On my death bed, I regret to admit that I had not proclaimed my love earlier. So i shall do it now."

She felt his grip weaken, and she couldn't breathe. Her throat emitted pure sounds of pain and agony. 

He gazed up at her weakly. "I love you, Eira. Never forget your purpose, your memories. Never forget, my dear. It has been an honour."

His grip loosened, his finger slipping. 

"No, NO!", she reached out desperately, Ornstein gripping her with one arm while the other was busy casting magic at any hand willing to swipe them.

His hand was no longer in her palm, having slid down her fingertips. She heard him breathe calmly, serenely. "I will never forget you, Solaire. Never. We are companions until the end." She whispered. 

He nodded, his voice shaking. "Always."

With a final twitch of his fingers, he whispered calmly, "Goodbye, Eira, my beautiful Eira. My sun is setting, It is dark..so dark.. "

His arms began to lose all sensation, and with once last look of desperation from her, he slipped from her grasp, the blackness swallowing him whole. 

"NO, NO! God, no. This can't be true, it can't be..", she fought against Ornsteins grip, who was tugging her away roughly, until finally he wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her to her feet forcefully. 

"Leave it be, Eira! Come, before the land disappears!" He roared, and she struggled weakly against his strong grasp, sobbing violently and choking on gasps of breath. 

Ornstein cursed at the ground, and dived onto the only ground remaining beneath the witch. Eira landed a top him, weeping desperately into his chestplate. "He's gone, he's gone.." She whimpered. 

The sound of screeching was heard, an insect writhing beneath the branches. Crawling off of Ornstein, her mind was overcome by rage, and she ran towards the insect with her hand clasped around her sword. "You bastard, you vile, sickening, miscreation!", she screamed with wrath.

Opening her palm, she became blinded by rage as her hand began to form an acid substance, the one that had previously injured her. Directing all her anger and sadness into her palm, she directed it towards the writhing insect. "Burn!", she roared, and released the acid. The insect screeched loudly, it's skin burning painfully. The tree above them roared in agony, it's branches snapping.

Pulling out her knife, she stood above the pained insect, eyes flowing with tears. She stabbed her knife into it's body repeatedly, blood spurting onto her hands and face. "Die, die!" She screamed, voice hoarse. It stopped moving. 

She did not. Her knife continued to bludgeon the insect violently, until Ornstein had gripped her around the waist once more and dragged her away. "Enough!"

Eira struggled weakly against him, squirming and kicking, but to no avail. He was simply too strong. she finally gave up, slumping pathetically in his arms, and he held her up firmly. He dipped low and scooped his hand beneath her thighs, carrying her bridal style. 

She did not fight him, merely whimpered and sniffled as she leaned into his chestplate tiredly. Mental trauma had caused her to become exhausted. 

Touching the bonfire, he warped to Anor Londo, and carried her to his room absentmindedly. The entire time, her sobbing would increase suddenly, and then decrease into mere sniffles. She was shaking violently in his arms, her body unconsciously snuggling against his for a comfort. He did not judge her. 

Soon, her breathing became rhythmic, her sobbing ceasing. Her face was tear stained and red, her eyes shut. She has fallen asleep from exhaustion, and he was relieved at that. Gently setting her onto his bed, he moved to sit on a chair beside her.

A weak hand gripped him loosely, wishing to hold him in place. Her face contorted in her sleep, and tears began once more.

He hesitated.

A whimper had broken the little wall that he had built and he relented. Stiffly, he laid beside her, unmoving. 

He would not tell her that the entire night, she rested snuggly against his chest, not once letting him go.

Or that her hand had clasped firmly around his own.


	8. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awakening from a disturbing dream, Eira secretly appreciates the silent company of her companion during her time of mourning after Solaires death.
> 
> Pulling herself together, Eira is thrilled at finding an interesting book, one unlike any other. Simply for pleasure, it told tales of humourous, albeit explicit, stories. Of course, stumbling upon the erotica within the book was a brilliant find, too.
> 
> The two companions bond somewhat as Eira animatedly sings a tale from her past - though it soon turns into an ancedote of herself and the child she once had, with a knight even Ornstein once knew.
> 
> As time continues, Eira stumbles across an ancient room demonstrating figures of knights upon a mosaic, mapped table. The Dragonslayer appears to be searching high and low for her, and eventually he finds her.
> 
> Except, his voice is different and hes bruising her. Then, he simply vanished?
> 
> She had the inkling that maybe that wasn't Ornstein at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this. A nice reveal of past life and an interesting find with the figurine knights all placed in curious positions.
> 
> But most of allllll, is this guy really Ornstein? I think we all know who it is.
> 
> The story is unravelling and the BONDINGGG omgjsjfifi.
> 
> ***the song is the Drunk Scotsman***, but i changed the words to things like 'drunk astoran' xD idk i remember listening to it when i wrote this because i found the story funny. Seemed like an entertaining story, and our girl was all about that life thousands of years ago  
> Pls enjoy

A cool breeze hit against Eiras pale cheeks, causing her to blink slowly at her surroundings. Grass brushed calmly against her legs, and when she looked down, she realised that she had been wearing a lilac dress. 

Ahead of her sat her mother and siblings, dressed and ready for the holy day of Gwyn to celebrate his peace. A picnic basket was held in her sister's hands, and she turned to face Eira with a smile. "Mother says we shall meet you on the field". The three departed, leaving Eira in front of a nearby, small house.

Everything changed.

Darkness overtook the beautiful scenery, and Eira now found herself trapped in a little girls bedroom, her old bedroom. She was kneeled before her bed, her body unwilling to move no matter how much she tried. Then she froze.

The familiar sound of a whip graced her ears, and she grimaced.

"Murderer. You let him die", snarled the voice of her father, who began whipping her violently. "For each companion you let die, I will punish you!", he whipped her over and over, blood cascading down her back as she screamed.

"No.", a cold voice suddenly interrupted, and Eira blinked wildly. A shift behind her was heard. "Allow me. I will deliver punishment upon this wench." 

Eira struggled to move, and forced her neck to turn to the voice behind her. She choked on a gasp. A tall man, sparkling and angry, stood before her.

His throat had a purple scar as though he had been mauled. 

Yet his voice..It was familiar.

The man was not detailed, for she only saw his dead eyes and his scars. Lifting the whip, she could hear a deadly smirk in his voice, "am i truly your knight, Eira?". The whip lashed upon her back. 

\-----------------------

Eiras entire body jolted violently, springing up into a sitting position as sweat gathered along her forehead, tears dripping down her cheeks. That dream...

She held her head in her hands and began to sob softly, eyes scrunched shut as she gripped her hair. Solaire was gone, and now her own dreams tormented her. Why had that man from her dream sounded like Ornstein? 

She shivered, the sickening feeling of anxiety and dread seeping into her stomach. 

But she paused. Where was she? Wiping her eyes, she lifted her head slowly, blurry eyes fighting to adjust to the rooms lighting by four simple candles. Her gaze laid upon the walls of the room, flags and scrolls decorating it. 

In fact, scrolls upon scrolls seemed to line many shelves neatly, various pots of ink empty and cast aside. It appeared someone worked here rather than slept.

A simple desk was in the corner, rather large in her opinion, with a familiar, golden spear resting against it. Her hands softly glided over the bed - it was soft, and luxurious, something she was not accustomed to.

It felt clean and upon looking, the sheets were a crimson red. In fact, the entire rooms theme was red and gold. Clearly, this was the Captain's room. It left an odd feeling of embarrassment in her stomach.

Eyes now adjusted, she sat upon the edge of the bed, silver hair draping around her entire being and her face. Bruises lathered her skin from the battle with the witches, blue and black painted along her arms and legs. 

Her mind, like a tunnel honing onto one vision at the end, repeated the events of the day before. 

Solaire. 

Her eyes blankly stared at her lap, hands clasped together tightly. Tears flowed freely once more, though she did not feel them. She was numb. The familiar cracks within her sanity resonated throughout her mind and soul. 

The room was empty, but she knew Ornstein was close, for his spear resided against the desk. She found that she did not care anymore. Laying down, she curled up, and began to cry. Regret and embarrassment could wait. 

The door opened eventually, causing her breath to hitch and remain silent. Familiar thumping of armoured feet slowly walked into the room, and promptly stopped. She grimaced. Of course, he was gazing upon her weak form with disgust, most likely. 

But no comment was made, or huff or a scoff was heard. No, instead, she felt the edge of the bed sink as a familiar weight settled onto it. The rhythmic sounds of his soft breathing calmed her, for the rest of the room remained silent. 

Her sobbing ceased, his presence giving her a semblance of safety. She lulled in and out of slumber, and after perhaps hours, she finally sat. 

Shaking hands moved beneath her as she pushed herself up, silver locks covering her face. Her face and eyes stung from the constant crying, even within her sleep. Finally, she sat at the beds edge, beside a familiar body of armour. 

He was patient with her, he waited. The knight felt at a loss for words at that moment, losing Solaire had indeed been tragic. Perhaps conflicted is the better word to describe his feelings at the moment. Regardless, he remained silent. 

He heard her shudder a breath, a gentle, raspy voice barely meeting his ears. "Is this what it feels like, then? To go mad? To lose everything?" 

Her words shook as she spoke them, she was fighting back tears, he knew. She stood slowly, delicately, and walked towards the window. Her gaze lingered upon the ever present sun, face contorting with sadness. Brushing her hair out of her eyes with a hand, she grimaced at her expression.

Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot and sunken, and her face was pale. Almost like she was hollowing.. 

Ornstein now truly realised just how agonising it was to be human, to rely on your sanity and those around you. 

She turned to him slowly, he could now see her face, though she did not look at him, she stared at his feet. A sick nostalgia entered his chest. Her eyes were blank.

"He was my most cherished friend. He was like family to me and to learn that he", she hesitated, "cared for me as something more is..", she threw her hands up, until they settled onto her face. "It's heart breaking."

"Do you wish to speak about it?" Spoke an uncertain but gentle voice. Her head snapped up at him then, eyes unwavering and glassy. She stepped towards him, and now he could see that her eyes held betrayal and sadness.

"Speak to you?", she repeated in disbelief, and her face contorted into a pained scowl. "You unsettle me, Dragonslayer. I do not know why, I do not know how, but i.."

She faltered. He could see the tears now. "I do not trust you. I do not understand you." She groaned in frustration and slammed her hands down onto the desk. "I feel like..like I have known you and yet.."

She gripped her hair roughly. "Why do i not remember? Why does my mind fail me? I know you, I'm certain we have crossed paths. But i do not feel joy for you, like meeting an old friend"

She shuddered, arms wrapping around herself, "I feel anger, hate, betrayal. Why?" She croaked, "Why do i resent you when you have helped me? Why does my body insist on running, why do my dreams torment me?!" 

She was shouting at this point, but he knew the anger was directed at her loss of memories. He shuddered. She wished for the truth, but he was not certain he could give it.

She gripped the knife from the table, inspecting the dried blood. "I had a dream." She spoke coldly, tracing the edge of the blade.

"My father - he was whipping me. I do not care for such events, no, what truly unsettled me was a voice. Cold and uncaring, and when i turned, I realised that the familiar, purple scar of a man I despise was standing before me. Do you know what is odd?"

She looked at him then, a bitter smile on her lips. "He had your voice. He said, am i truly your knight?, and he..."

She swallowed. "He was whipping me - You were whipping me." 

Ornstein clasped his hands together uncomfortably. He sighed and frowned. This was not an ideal situation. Often times he could practically smell the fear radiating off of her. He couldn't blame her, many feared him, though hers stemmed deeper.

"Did you ever see him again? The man?" He questioned curiously. How much did she remember? 

Eira paused in her anger and thought for a moment. "I did not stay in the city much longer after that, but i briefly remember him. Many regarded him as a hero of sorts, for he was well known for slaying beasts." 

She tied her hair up neatly in her own reflection. "He, along with three others, would come through the city now and again, after the riots. Mainly to uphold a strong image of the Palace. I did not see his face clearly, or his armour, for I hid in the shadows whenever he passed."

"The lady, his companion who helped me escape, often sought me out while passing through, offering a small smile. The male who shadowed her, tall and dark, would often do the same. It became apparent that he knew of her secret, and rarely, very rarely, his figure could be seen in the late hours of the night, leaving pennies outside the houses of the poor."

She smiled then, a smile full of bittersweet reminiscing. " And yet, their captain - Why was he so cruel? I cannot imagine that they were friends", she gave a dry chuckle. 

Ornstein felt an empty hole open up in his chest. She knew nothing, but he could not blame her.

\---------------------

The day continued, and Eira had spent her time distracting herself writing within her journal. On the trip to Izalith, she did not find much, but she wrote about its history nonetheless, and the creature that the witch had become, drawing it from her memory. 

She was occupied by the books of the library too, and found that a book concerning the many wars of the world interested her for a time.

She would forget her issues with Ornstein for now, and focus on her own inner peace and solace. Perhaps a little light hearted reading was in order. 

Walking to the many piles of books she had retrieved, she dug through them, until her eyes happened upon one in particular. Smiling, she picked it up, and perched herself onto a bench within the castle grounds. 

Sitting cross legged and comfortably, she draped her thick cloak around her shoulders with a simple tunic underneath. She opened the book gently, and began smiling at the many bawdy poems and songs written inside. 

Oh, this certainly allowed her to reminisce of her days of telling such poems to an audience!

Grinning, she couldnt help but giggle as she read a story about how a handsomely muscular knight bedded every maiden in sight, stealing their viringity. Eventually, sorceresses began to believe that this handsome man must surely be casting a spell upon the innocent women, and they all set out to retrieve his manhood permanently with a knife! 

A detailed image to the left depicted a busty sorceress drooling over a muscular man who was frantically trying to cover his precious parts with his large hands, panic written across his face.

Eira held her mouth and stifled a laugh. So many men and women adored these stories in her time, and many a time she would have them roaring with laughter as she animatedly told the story.

Turning the pages, she came across another story from her homeland, Astora. It spoke of a drunken man praying to the gods for a woman who was well endowed and would forever serve him beer. Well, the gods did just that, and the following evening, the drunken man almost fainted from the blood loss in his brain as it had travelled further south.

A woman, with a chest so incredibly large, bared her well endowed flesh to the greedy man, and quite suddenly, beer shot through her nipples. The man was happy for a while, but after getting blasted in the face far too many times, he died. Was it from the beer, or the blood raging southward?

Eira giggled loudly, eyes crinkling and sparkling with humour. She remembered fondly how Solaire had been furiously embarrassed at such a story. Though she was numb to it, for it is the type of stories she had told for years to earn money. 

She scanned over the many pages of the book, waiting for a story to catch her attention. One did, and she raised her brows.

It was no poem or tale, it was erotica. She shrugged softly, may as well give it a go. Even women, albeit secretly, indulged in the sinful reading now and again.

The story started with a beautiful, golden haired maiden waiting for her lover to return from battle. The girl desperately called out to him in the knight, her legs rubbing together frantically. As though on cue, a sweeping dragon flew down into the village, with the warrior on its back.

He was tall and muscular, his hair golden and wild. Dropping down from the beast, he threw his bloodied axe to the ground, threw his helmet alongside it, and walked fiercely to his maiden, who was now desperately reaching a hand beneath her skirt.

Eiras eyebrows rose, her greedy eyes drinking in the words. 

Strong hands gripped her backside as he picked her up and took her inside. The woman released gasps of delight, moans of pleasure, as her knight pleased each part of her body. Hovering above her, he gripped his manhood, and with a soft sigh from his maiden, thrusted it---

"Are you quite alright? You are flushing." Spoke the smooth tone of the Dragonslayer, who was stood in front of her with his arms crossed over his broad chest. Eira stared at him for a moment, he was a knight, too...

A mortified expression reached her face. Had she really just merged the thought of him with the male in the book?! Ornsteins head tilted, the sun reflecting off of his golden armour.

She snapped the book shut and gazed at his helmet, then. "Fine, I'm perfectly fine!", she sputtered, dropping the book face down onto her lap.

He tilted his head somewhat again, clearly in disbelief. "I trust you are reading something.. interesting."

Eira blushed and stared at the book in her lap. "it's a story of tales amongst..other things. Nothing of importance." 

He did not relent, and merely gestured to said book. "Oh? That would explain your laughing, but not your flushing.". He held a small smile beneath his helmet, he was not oblivious. 

Eira sighed dramatically and threw her hands up with a small chuckle. "Ah, I relent. I was reading something less than suitable for your prude eyes, that is certain. I was merely curious." 

Ornstein rolled his eyes, though the amusement was evident in his voice. "Did i interrupt?"

Eira raised her brows at him and merely nodded. "Yes, you did, and just as I was getting to the good stuff, too."

She heard him chuckle deeply, and she smiled. "Aside from that, there are some truly humorous tales in this book that even I remember telling!" 

Ornstein Sat beside her on the small bench. "Do go on.". She cocked her head slightly, amusement shining in her eyes. "I do not wish to embarrass you, Dragonslayer. "

He waved a hand dismissively. "You will not." 

She breathed, and sang the tale from the book:

an Astoran clad in kilt left a bar one evening fair,  
And one could tell by how he walked that he'd drunk more than his share,  
He fumbled round until he could no longer keep his feet  
Then he stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street"

"About that time two young and lovely girls just happened by,  
And one says to the other with a twinkle in her eye,  
"See young sleeping Astoran, so strong and handsome built?  
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt"

"They crept up on that sleeping Astoran, quiet as could be,  
Lifted up his kilt about an inch so they could see,  
And there behold, for them to view, beneath his knightly skirt,  
Was nothing more than Gwyn had graced him with upon his birth!"

"They marveled for a moment, then one said "we must be gone,  
Let's leave a present for our friend, before we move along",  
As a gift they left a blue silk ribbon, tied into a bow,  
Around his handsome length, the Astorans kilt did lift and show!

Now the Astoran woke to nature's call and stumbled toward the trees, Behind a bush, he lifts his kilt and gawks at what he sees,  
And in a startled voice he says to what's before his eyes.  
"O lad I don't know where you been but I see you won first prize!"

By the end, Eira had comically taken on a heavily accented Astoran tone, deepening her voice to sound like a man. 

Ornstein could not help but chuckle, for the tale was certainly amusing. His lips held a small grin, and he shook His head. "Dare I ask what the men would do when that tale was sung?"

She giggled, eyes brightening. "Lets just say, that you certainly will never accustom to getting an eye full of a man's parts. Many were old, it was unpleasant!" Her giggling increased, a dust of pink grazing her cheeks. 

He chuckled, he could imagine that it was indeed a terrible sight. " And the women?" He questioned with amusement. 

Eira rolled her eyes and smirked. "Now, that certainly depends. On the rare occasion that a handsome man bared himself for all to see, many women would scream excitedly. I do not blame them." 

Ornstein quirked a brow. "Ah, I see. I have no doubt that many bared themself to you personally. You are the entertainer, after all."

Eira smiled and nodded, chuckling at the memories. "Indeed. Some were humorous, some were forceful. Of course, the men had no qualms about throwing any bastard out naked. Many were not fond of the disrespect to me or my fellow entertainers."

She paused, a mischievous look upon her face. " Though on the rare occasion that a handsome knight approached me, well, I'm sure you can imagine what happened.", she wiggled her eyebrows comically, and he shook his head.

"Unsurprisingly, I am not astonished by such a confession". He paused a moment. "Did you ever sing in Anor Londo? Our customs and humour differ vastly from your own."

Eira hummed. "I did for some time, but only once I had settled myself and was not as poor. An entertainer on the side, an assassin in the night."

A dreamy expression was displayed upon her face. "Many of Anor Londos residents preferred love songs. It was not my favourite, but i was told that I was good, and so i sung those for some time. It appeared rude to sing of my typical stories." 

The knight beside her hummed, his arms crossed as he leaned back against the bench comfortably. "Indeed, a great many nobles lived here. If one wishes to find your type of entertainment, it would be in secrecy. For how long did you stay?"

"About 30 years altogether, for I travelled and came back multiple times. Once my tie with the city had been broken, I left and never looked back, not until that day I met you."

Ornstein gazed over now, witnessing the look of distance within her eyes, as though she was reliving a memory. "The tie - what was it? Your singing?"

She shook her head. "A lover. We had not known each other long, a mere 10 years but I..", she sighed.

"I loved him. We planned to leave the city, travel the land and make our own home. T'was the early stages of the undead curse, and we knew that I would be able to conceive, in limited time."

Ornsteins chest became heavy. 

"I had never felt that way before, for a man. He was a knight, actually." She glanced at Ornstein then. "You may have knew him, he was rather eccentric." 

Ornstein Sat a little straighter, turning to her. "And his name?"

"Ledo." 

Ornstein stilled. Ledo? He was a mere rank below him and his 3 companions, and he was indeed eccentric, bearing his own great hammer. Ornstein scowled, he had witnessed Ledo with a woman before, one who did not resemble Eira. That would mean...

Eira smiled sadly. "He was unfaithful. He had planned to desert the silver knights, for he believed the city of God's to be corrupted, as did I.

We had planned to travel in a mere week, our destination set for Zena, a quiet, peaceful country. He even proposed." 

Ornstein shut his eyes. He remembered the many conquests Ledo had bragged about, but he was not certain that Eira knew. 

Her eyes became glassy and far away. "A few days before we were set to leave, he sat me down, and told me of his filthy other half, and that he cannot continue our relationship.

And then, miraculously, he disappeared from Anor Londo altogether, his mistress left behind. I do not know where he went, but i..." She held her belly.

Ornstein glanced at where her hand had been placed, and he grimaced.

She inhaled shakily. "I was pregnant, and the father did not know. I had dropped my life as an assassin, only to be left with nothing but a fatherless babe within me."

She blinked up at the sky, holding back her tears. "As you can imagine, it was less than ideal. My child was born within the city, during the time that the dragons had destroyed part of the human region. I tried. I scrapped up any food I could find, my good friend Sigrid stepping in to help as much as possible, but.."

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she would not meet his eyes. "The knights, the gods, they had left us to rot, as I explained a mere few days ago. Due to their cruelty, my child died of malnutrition, along with many others."

Ornsteins chest had tightened painfully, and he found it hard to breathe. Her anger from before suddenly seemed completely justified now, her anger towards the gods, the knights, him. 

She inhaled a shuddering breath, and closed her eyes. "When he died, my child, my boy, I would not sit idly as those bastards in the palace relished in their riches. That is why i attacked, you know the rest."

She turned towards him, blue eyes shining with unshed tears and sadness. "I know you do not understand. I know that to you, a lowly human such as myself has no place challenging the gods and the knights. I just hope you can at least piece together a possible reason for my hatred towards those cowards." 

Eira gazed into her hands, a few stray tears dropping onto them. The weight of a firm hand met her shoulder, and she turned.

Ornstein squeezed her shoulder lightly, his voice firm, yet a sliver of care was hidden there too. " You have been through much, even for a human." 

He hesitated, but the pain within his chest forced him to stop being prideful. "Your child, what was his name?" 

"Zathrian. He was my pride and joy. The boy had survived through so much, I knew he had a warriors soul. I only wish that I had done more, had not failed him." 

She smiled suddenly, a sadness within her eyes. "He had black hair, like his father, though he had my eyes. He was very inquisitive, and would often marvel at my collection of daggers. He truly was a warrior", she chuckled. 

"But that is a time long forgotten, and I must move on."

The hand upon her shoulder lingered, before slowly retrieving to its owner. Eira shivered as the knights armoured fingertips briefly brushed against her shoulder gently. 

She did not know where her destination lay next, or how she would figure out the conflict within her mind. Her memories were failing, and the events with Solaire had extinguished her resolve.

Perhaps for now, she would merely rest within the castle.

\------

To say the palace was large was a gargantuan understatement in itself. Hours had passed, and Eira could sufficiently say that she was lost. Now walking the far west side of the empty palace, Eira bristled with curiosity at the many ancient paintings and royal rooms. 

Through a set of golden double doors was the layout of a finely crafted oak table, able to seat at least 50 people. In fact, the entire room was dazzling in riches; golden ebellishments upon the furniture, a throne at the very edge of the room made from solid gold, and a circular, enormous table at the opposite end of the room, displaying a map with dust ridden soldier figurines upon it.

The map appeared to be a built in mosaic of Lordran. Silver knight figures lined the perimeter of the point which marked Anor Londo. Curiously, someone had left many scattered within the darkroot forest, a great many bearing the more impressive weapons - great axes and great swords.

Untouched for perhaps millennia sat a figure of Gwyn, crafted by a perfectionists hands to truly illustrate the Gods power through the use of gold. Beside him, closely, a womanly figure - Gwynevere, Eira remembered from so long ago - and to the side of that, a lithe, smaller boy, toppled onto it's side.

Then, unmistakably stood the nameless king, evident by the ancient style of sandals he adorned and the very bottom of his weapon. The rest of the figurine appears crushed and burned.

Whether there was symbolism depicted in the state of these figures, Eira did not know. She'd guess there was a semblance of truth somewhere.

Gazing across the board once more, Eira circled the width of the circular table, staring at the mosaic of the Dukes Archives. Peculiarly, a knight clad in complete stone - in fact, the figure was even made out of stone - appeared tossed to the outskirts of the archives. 

She'd heard stories of such knights clad in stone. Ornstein had even given her their ring. Or, rather, Havels ring. Now that she thought about it, her late grandfather often wore such a ring himself. He was a knight, though he spoke little about himself. Eira was simply proud he had been able to reach a rank so high - he must've even known Havel himself.

Smiling fondly, Eiras fingertips lightly dusted across the mosaic, dirt and dust clearing from the dull board until she stopped, hand hovering above one piece in particular.

She did not know this area. It was beyond Anor Londo, within the thick trees that could be seen in the distance even today. Perhaps the town had disappeared since then. A group of knights were situated on the road to such a place, a menacing figure of a dragon standing on the outskirts of the trees.

She never knew what was north of Lordran. Didn't think it had a name. Either way, there was clearly some sort of threat going on. The unmistakable figure of Ornstein glinted in the dim room, upright and proud, as always. 

To send the Dragonslayer himself must've made the mission a double threat. And now, beside him stood 3 Havel knights. Head tilting slightly, Eira paused upon the reminiscent figure of a great hammer in the hands of a smaller figure, evidently human.

It was Ledo. 

Breath hitching, Eira lightly dusted the armoured figure with her fingertips. A solemn smile graced her face, she remembered that armour. Everything about it. Never one to follow rules, Ledo simply had to modify his equipment to his liking, despite the many scoldings he had.

In fact, Ledo often spoke of Havel himself chastising Ledo on his lack of discipline within the knights of Gwyn. Often times claimed his ego was even bigger than his hammer. Snorting, Eira gently set Ledos figure down, hands now pressed against the table in thought.

God, why did he leave? She supposed the better question is why did she allow herself to be fooled by that eccentric bastard. Maybe, if Ledo had stayed, Zathrian would have had a chance of life. To grow, fight, learn, experience. Maybe, Eira would have at least someone to hold, someone to fight for.

The knight was undoubtedly a conniving prick, and if she ever saw him again - though unlikely - she'd come down on him like a full cart of Havels, but she couldn't blame him for Zathrian.

How was he to know? If she hadn't kept it secret, maybe things would've changed. Even still, the pregnancy was planned, and thus a part of him must've suspected, despite his infuriating density at times.

Though, recalling their last week together, Ledo was indeed tense. He was aloof, disinterested. His face displayed constant contemplation, frustration. He snapped at everyone. His newfound mistress didn't make things easier, either. 

With a deep, particularly stressed sigh, Eira shook her head and rid her mind of him. He was gone, now. Forever. But had he suspected the dragon raids? Had he known that the knights planned to outcast the humans, forcing them to starve? 

Surely, he did. A pang of betrayal and sadness resonated within her chest. She had little time to dwell, however, as the sound of footsteps echoed along the floor in the next room.

Glancing around swiftly, Eira darted across the room into the darkened corners and climbed the sturdy bookshelf, at least half the size of the room. The very top was fairly wide, and she curled up tightly, laying low as she peered out with a sword in her hand.

The room was dark in general, but now it was pitch black in her specific corner. She couldn't see them, and they couldnt see her. The footsteps thudded against the floor now, evidently making their way into the grand room, but promptly stopped.

In the far corner of the room, a candle was set upon the table as a large form appeared to be staring at the table Eira was studying only moments ago. The sound of metal armour grazed the mosaic, inspecting the knights and how they were situated.

Eira was ducking low at this point, head safely tucked against the bookshelf. She had the patience of a master, when needed. The thudding resumed to the middle of the room, beside the elongated oak table, and stopped once more. 

An eerie silence overcame the room. Eira didnt dare peek out, merely held her breath. A screech of metal upon the floor caused the nerves in her body to skyrocket - it was clearly intentional.

"I know you're here", a familiar, deep voice drawled with a sigh on the end. 

Frowning, Eira moved a few inches to be able to see the golden armour of the Dragonslayer. Mouth opening to retort snarkily, Eira promptly closed it with a smirk. Well, she could always fool him. It would certainly lighten her mood.

Head laying back into a fully hidden position, Eira remained silent.

Footsteps began walking slowly around the table, he was looking for her. "Perhaps it would be best to come out. Unless, of course, youre an intruder. Regardless, I'll find you.", he murmured, the soft sound of lightening crackling around him.

Eira had mastered the art of silent breathing - acting dead - and merely lay there tensely. The knights footsteps had taken a turn, thudding against the floor relatively quietly. He was now heading in her direction, naturally. It was a secluded section, good for hiding. She'd remain unseen, she wasnt a novice.

Standing directly below the book shelf now, Eira peered down at him inspecting behind various cabinents. With utter silence, Eira clasped her staff firmly. He was close now, it was only a matter of time before he reached up to her location.

Casting her staff, Eira aimed an aural decoy at the very end of the long table, and waited. Ornstein straightened, gripping his spear. He was beginning to think that an intruder had trespassed. The knight spun on his heel, but stopped.

Slowly, the sight of his helmet glancing upwards momentarily caught her off guard. Casting a second aural decoy towards the door this time, Eira was relieved that the sound finally persuaded the Dragonslayer to move from her area.

Casting a silencing spell, Eira crouched upon the shelf and launched herself behind the throne and out of sight. Except, a book landed carelessly on the floor at her leap. Eira inwardly cursed herself for the brief lapse in professionalism, but promptly used it to her advantage.

At the very least, he would now deduct that she was messing with him, and he'd venture around the room once more. That gave her time to escape.

The dragonslayer was eerily quiet. Eira couldn't see him from behind the throne, but she didnt like his change in persona. Deathly silent and undetected.

Eira loved magic, she really did. With a smirk, the woman cast shadows within his peripheral vision - she could hear him turn, now. Rolling swiftly, Eira made her way to the mosaic table and crouched low. 

"So it is you, then.", drawled the knight with a sigh. Her magic had given her away, and now he wondered why she was hiding. To aggravate him, more than likely. 

Stifling a snort, Eira did a quick once over of the room. In her situation behind the mosaic table, there was too long a walk to the entrance of the door to leave. She'd have to sneak between furniture to make it unnoticed. 

She hoped this pissed him off. The Dragonslayers back was too her, inspecting the much longer table beside the throne. He was dead silent and alert, though lacked any true determination, and a part of her wondered if he was purposely being lax in his search. 

His footsteps resumed. Swiftly, Eira crawled under the circular table, crouching and watching for signs of his armour. 

Halting, golden feet now stood at the edge of the table, and soon his knees came into view. He was crouching. Eira grinned - brilliant. Smoothly, Eira rolled from under the table as he fully descended and lept silently to another opposing bookshelf. At least she was closer to the exit, now.

As fast as possible, the woman climbed to the very top of the peculiarly large shelf and hid once more. Upon situating herself snugly, she finally allowed her eyes to seek Ornstein. Except, he was gone.

Eyes narrowing, Eira glanced around the room swiftly. Her heart rate had increased, a curious sense of adrenaline settling within her abdomen. 

After a few minutes, Eira jumped from the shelf and onto the ground. He was gone. Shifting rigidly, she made her way to the door. 

The crackling of lightening surrounded her, causing her to spin on her heel. The atmosphere was tingling, almost. An intimidation tactic, perhaps? Or simply natural, exuded strength? Eira didnt know. 

With finality, she turned towards the exit once more, ready to make her escape. 

Oceanic eyes widening, Eira physically jolted as her figure slammed into sturdy armour. How hadn't she felt his presence behind her? How--

A shaky gasp mingled with the light humming of electricity in the air as her right arm was suddenly grasped into an iron grip. Instincts reigning control, Eira attempted to backstep and wrench her forearm away, only to have her body yanked - to her it felt that way, at least - forward.

Grimacing defeatedly, Eira could only crane her neck to stare up at the snarl of his lion helmet as his massive form enveloped her unintentionally.

"I assume you enjoyed yourself while it lasted.", came the typical, sarcastic comment she had been expecting. Rolling her eyes, Eira gazed to the side with disinterest, her arm still encased by his golden gauntlet which chilled her skin. 

"All games must end.", she smiled sarcastically up at him with little humour, tugging her arm experimentally once more. He wouldn't relent, and he physically did not budge, even when she placed a hand against his abdomen to at least allow herself some leverage when trying to pry his hands away.

It didnt work. In fact, she appeared to be exerting herself despite the fact that the idea was to force him to move. Her frown only deepened when the familiar sound of a scoff graced her ears, his helmet tilted in mock wonder.

"You know,", Eira drawled with an evident sigh of exasperation, "you can release me now." She gazed up at him impatiently, eyes now cast upon the mosaic table. The dragonslayer was oddly silent, and it unsettled her. 

Attitude seeping away instantly, Eira demonstrated confusion upon feeling his grip tighten, but only a fraction. She cocked her head up at him almost innocently. 

It was becoming suffocating, standing beneath him like this. Eira was starting to feel uncertain as her forearm now began to sting from the level of pressure he was squeezing with. Her free hand gripped his large wrist, attempting to pry him off. Is he joking?

In an instant, her other hand was grabbed with a bruising force. Wincing, Eiras brows knitted together in fearful confusion as she attempted to take a step back. He followed her every step until her back slammed painfully into concrete wall.

Eira glared now, cheeks tinging pink at his close proximity - her face was almost touching his lower chest - and cast her gaze to the side. "Ornstein, the jokes well over now. Can you let go?", her voice shook as she spoke his name. Something wasnt right.

The knight lowered his head, one hand lifting to grip her jaw gently. "You shouldn't wonder where not permitted", spoke a voice vastly unlike his own. 

Eiras eyes widened. He sounded like..a boy? An adolescent, young man? The knight continued. "Do not sully the very remnants of history.", the voice appeared, amused, at her utter shock. 

Then, in an instant, Ornstein faded to dust and disappeared altogether. 

Eira gaped, back flush against the wall as she fought for a semblance of logic in what she had witnessed.

Then, with a jolt of shock, Eira watched Ornstein reappear once more through the golden doors. "Ah, there you are. You hid long enough", she could practically hear his eyes roll as his voice depicted impatience.

Eira simply blinked, and then scowled harshly. Marching forwards, she stood directly in front of him. "Excuse me? Not moments ago you were bruising my arms and pushing me into walls!"

Ornstein appeared at a loss for words. "Youre sorely mistaken - I've been searching the castle for you.", he gestured to the exit, head cocking at the faint marks upon her forearms.

Eira glared now, arms folding angrily. "Oh, I see. This is a joke, I'm assuming?", she threw her hands up, exasperated. "What on earth type of miracle did you use to vanish like that?"

Ornstein blinked. "I'm uncertain what you--"

"And what happened to your voice?!"

"I -- Pardon?", Ornstein was thoroughly confused now. 

Eira jabbed him in the chest with her finger. "Oh, drop the act, will you? One moment youre all 'dont sully history' ", she spoke in a high pitched voice, "and now youre all 'oh look at me im pretending to be confused' ", she imitated in a deep voice and huffed.

"I dont sound like--"

Scowling, she stormed passed him in a flurry of aggravation. "Irritating bastard", she mumbled, footsteps pounding upon the floor angrily.

Ornstein sighed. What did he do now? That woman had issues.


	9. Ancient Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reflection upon oneself could be a blessing, a time of change, or a curse that emphasises on one's past self. Sometimes, staring into the harsh reality of the past is a necessity one cannot ignore forever. They know this.
> 
> But progressing holds far more importance than their own individual problems. 
> 
> Eira spots the old, useless broken pendant she had acquired some time ago at the archives. Expect this time, its calling to her. Lulling her. Ornstein reluctantly allows the pendants energy to be used as a compass, their sight directed towards the depth of the darkroot basin. 
> 
> Happening upon a soul of the ancient past was not how Eira expected the day to go. Venturing into a black void topped it off. 
> 
> And now, though severely dangerous for her companion, a being of light, venturing through the area was a must if Ornstein is ever to free a long lost friend from a time gone by.
> 
> They both knew that this wouldn't be a happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well its been a LOOOONG time, but here we are. I need to seriously organise my fucking stories and stop putting things off. I can only hope that I am forgived :((
> 
> Now, i hope you all enjoy. Its simple, but I thought the evil diversion of manus was much needed from their usual travels. It'll get better! And sadder:(( we live for the drama. 
> 
> As I've read over my published chapters, I was happy at the comments and kudos I received. So thank you! They really brighten my day 🥰

A thick, red mane cascaded down the shoulders of a pale, muscular man, who was sitting restlessly amongst a luxurious bed, one best fitted for a man worthy of captain. Though the fabric was soft, and welcoming, a melancholic darkness swirled within his emerald pools. 

The signature helmet bearing a lions snarl sat neatly beside him. Brushing his hair from his face with a firm hand, he gazed to his left, into the small mirror upon the wall. 

A face he had almost forgotten glared back at him. His face. His scrutinizing eyes glanced over the scars upon his cheek, and tilting his head slightly, he saw the telltale scar of a dagger.

Glancing down further, he grimaced at the deep, faded scar upon his neck.

\----------------

The silver haired woman stood in nothing but her underclothes, a mere sheet of cloth, and gazed into the windows reflection of her room. 

Her body. It was pale and scarred heavily, and turning slightly, she grimaced at the sight of brutal lashes across her back, albeit faded.

Small hands touched the many scars that had usually remained hidden, a memory flashing before her eyes for each one. Gently, she lifted the cloth of her bra, and gazed at the worst scar of all.

Across her upper ribs was a scar in the shape of a violently edged spider web, white and faded around the edges while the centre held a slight redness to it. 

Eira swiftly dressed herself once more, wishing to bathe. It was no necessity, though she missed fresh water against her skin. Sighing, she pulled on her silver knight armour, and turned to leave.

But something stopped her, caught her attention. Upon the desk lay many of the items she had retrieved throughout her quest. But this one was peculiar, it was almost..

Speaking to her.

Picking it up gently, she inspected the item. It was a pendant, and it appeared to be broken. It held no value, nor offered her protection, but something about it simply made her grab it when she has found it in the Dukes Archives. 

It was as though the darkness within her, the humanity, was tempting her to grab the pendant. She had never felt this way before. She would take it to Ornstein.

He had been easy to find, outside in the castles grounds upon a roof. Eira waved up at him, indicating him to come down. He jumped to the ground elegantly, and stood to address her. "Hm?"

She hid the pendant behind her back. "Open your palm."

"Another one of your games?"

The look she gave him made him sigh, and he opened his palm to her. She dropped the pendant into his hand and waited.

She continued waiting.

Ornstein merely stared at it. "You have given me a broken piece of jewellery."

Eira huffed and gripped his hand. "Wrong. Now take off your gauntlet, I wish to test something." 

Ornstein slowly unclasped his gauntlet with her hand still clutching his. Upon noticing, she pulled her hands away as though being burnt. 

Ornstein placed his gauntlet upon the ground, and Eira dangled the pendant above his hand. She dropped it. 

What she did not expect, is his reaction. When the pendant reached his large hand, he gave a shout of pain and threw the offending pendant to the ground in anger, his palm twitching from the burn it had caused, a bright red mark upon his palm. "What manner of sorcery is this?!", he demanded.

Eira had jumped in fright at the sudden outburst and stood backwards with a yelp at his anger. Eyes widening, she rushed over and gripped his hand, turning it to gaze at his palm.

Gently, her small fingers skimmed over the tender area, and he tensed. Gripping his hand with two of hers, she inspected it closely. It appeared to be a burn, nothing more. 

Swiftly, she picked up the pendant and held it onto her palm. No reaction came from her, and no pain. Ornstein marched over to her, and roughly gripped her hand, inspecting it intently. "You are not hurt?"

She shook her head, and for a mere moment, they simply stood staring at each other, his hand around hers. She was the first to speak, and he created a respectful distance then.

"This pendant, it lures me to it", she admitted while gently caressing it. "Yet it offends you."

Ornstein watched her delicately touch the pendant, eyes shining. He moved to grab it from her, but she stood back defensively, glaring at him. Ornstein paused. 

Eira blinked. "I..dont know why i did that.", though upon further inspection, she simply found it lured her more. There was something so raw, so comforting about it. Her eyes darkened, and Ornstein swiftly grabbed it from her, throwing it to the ground.

Eira released a whine of sadness and made to lunge for it, eyes full of desire. Ornstein gripped her arm, and she stopped. Her eyes became normal once more. She shook her head. "That pendant, it calls to my soul".

Ornstein did not release her yet. "It calls to the darkness within you, which is why I cannot touch it without it inflicting pain upon me, for I hold no darkness."

Eira glanced up at him. "I see. That pendant, it wants me to travel to a far away land, a land of ancient sorceries. We must go." She spoke with haste, and moved to grab it. 

Ornstein beat her to it, holding it by the tips of his fingers with a grimace. "i will hold it, for I do not know the control it may take over your soul. This land you speak of, where is it?"

Eira shook her head, face in hands. "I do not know. It is far, terribly far, yet it is close, as though it's remnants are around us. Perhaps the pendant can work as a compass?" 

He nodded. "And you are certain you wish to traverse such a land?" 

She nodded frantically, excitedly. "I am. Get everything you need -- or, rather, I need. We'll leave soon!" She ran inside, Ornstein watching after her. 

He sighed, and followed soon after, grabbing her book, sword and estus flasks, and promptly waited outside once more. 

\---------------------

Her form was easily distinguishable as she ran from the castle towards him, a wild mess of silver bouncing behind her. Sometimes, he wondered how she could be so mature and innocent at the same time.

The woman who excitedly chased after every adventure was also the woman who had lost a child, who was a mother at one point.

This woman had worked for years within pubs, surrounded by bawdy men as she sung explicit tales for money, bedding a few men along the way. Yet at the same time, she was also the woman who had infiltrated Anor Londo.

He shook his head, this woman was crazy. Hell, she had been sold to an eastern Prince and cut his finger off, only to then return home and settle down and almost marry a close knight of his.

Her polar opposite experiences were bizarre, and he wondered if her childishness came from a repressed childhood, or if her maturity came from unfortunate experiences. Or, maybe, she was simply older than he thought, and wiser than he thought. Figuratively, of course, for her physical age appeared young, yet her mental age may prove different. 

Though, how does one retain such an innocence whilst losing those around her? How does one remain so joyous despite the fact that her friend had died, gone forever? How does one remain positive when one cannot trust the knight she travelled with? And rightly so, he thought. As ashamed as he is to admit, he had lied on numerous occasions to her. 

Yet here she stands, tall and proud, the crumbling weakness she had portrayed long forgotten. In truth, it had hurt him, witnessing that. 

"Your helmet may he obstructing my view, but i have the inkling you are staring at me."

Ornstein was pulled from his thoughts. He was indeed staring. He simply turned on his heel, and headed for the bonfire. "Come. Let us follow the pendant." 

Oddly, Eira had demanded that they travel to the undead parish, for she had the most powerful feeling that this was the correct way. Passing Andre with a brief greeting, they traversed the forest, turned right and overlooked a vast cliff with narrow paths, a lake in the far distance. 

"We are in the darkroot basin now, something tell me that it is this way." She ran ahead along the steep path, and Ornstein tensed slightly. 

She turned a narrow corner that overlooked a steep drop. " We must get to the bottom, and then I believe--"

A black knight greatsword slammed down in front of her as she turned the corner. "Shit!", she yelped, scrambling backwards and falling back into Ornsteins chest. 

Gripping her, he instinctively pulled her small form behind him, watching as a black knight walked towards him slowly, weapons raised upon his shoulder, ready to strike. 

"You will drop your weapon, knight." Ornstein spoke authoritatively. The knight, though mindless and hollowed, clearly had the instinct within him to realise that this was his captain. Slowly, eerily, the knight backed away without turning, and entered a cave, vanishing. 

Eira released a breath that she had been holding, and gripped her chest. "That could have ended far worse. At least i know how to wield one of those things, now."

Ornstein rolled his eyes and continued in front of her. "Someone of your stature could not ever hope to wield such a weapon."

Eira scoffed, hands upon her hips. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He sighed, pace quickening as they neared the end. "You are small, petite. It simply does not suit your person.", he spoke matter of factly. 

Eira quirked a brow and smirked. "Oh? Must I gain a few pounds first? I thought I was relatively curvaceous.". 

Ornsteins face held amusement, though she could not see it. "As a Captain who knows about said weapon and the strength that is required to wield it, I do not believe a few extra pounds will suffice."

"Ohh, I get it.", she spoke slowly, and he knew she was trying to irritate him. "You're calling me fat now."

"I am not insinuating anything about your body, merely that--", he paused and sighed. " You are truly insufferable today. Anyhow, we have arrived."

He saw her smile as she walked passed him, and he could not deny that he was relieved to see her recovering so quickly, despite their issues. 

She jogged ahead. "This way! The feeling is intense." 

Finally, after bypassing the relatively passive golems, they came to a vast lake, clear and endless in depth. She stopped. "I do not understand. The pendant has guided me here, yet there is nothing to be seen?" 

Just as she spoke, the water began to shake, violent ripples splashing water in all directions. A Hydra smashed it's way through the surface of the water, hissing wildly as their necks twisted in erratic patterns.

Eira gripped her sword tightly, but Ornstein held up a hand to stop her. His palm lit up brightly, and he pulled it back, a terrifying bolt of lightning forming in his palm. Nonchalantly, he shot it into the water, already beginning to scour the area leisurely as the Hydra screeched and flailed, before dropping onto the water, unmoving.

Eira stood beside him, tilting her head. "How much power do you possess?" Ornstein looked down at her for a moment. "A part of Gwyn resides within me, so i would assume a considerable amount." 

He walked forward. "Come, there is an odd inscription upon the floor.". Eira jogged over, and her eyes lit up. "A summon sign!", she kneeled down and dragged her fingers across it.

Ah, so that is how hues of various colours surround a human, it is from a summoning. 

Standing back, they watched as a young girl in an antiquated dress stood before them, hands clasped elegantly. "So, it is thou who rescueth me? Most gracious, I am deeply obliged. I am Dusk of Oolacile. I cometh from an age long before thine."

Eira cocked her head. "Oolacile, I have not heard of such a place. I have been guided here by an unforseen force, do you know anything about it?"

The girl smiled and nodded gently, and pointed across the lake. "Thine destination lies ahead." 

Eira smiled in return. "Thank you. What happened within Oolacile that has drawn me to such a place?"

Dusk sighed softly. "My home Oolacile was reduced to ashes, long ago, in my time. I have been alone ever since. I was beset by a creature from the Abyss. I would have perished then, were it not for the great knight Artorias."

Ornsteins head snapped towards the girl, and he stood directly in front of her. "Artorias? Does he live?!"

She shook her head softly. "In truth, I saw little of what transpired, for mine senses were already fled. But even still, there was something about Artorias.. A certain balance of the humours...That quite perfectly fits your semblance", she gazed at Ornstein with soft eyes, tentatively reaching a hand to touch his arm. 

"I owe him my life." She smiled, before retracting her hand. " If he is your friend, then go, but be warned, for a beast lies within Oolacile."

Swiftly thanking Dusk for her knowledge, Eira jogged to keep up with Ornstein who was already crossing the outskirts of the lake. "Slow down, would you?", she gripped his arm.

"Who is Artorias? Why was he saving that girl from the abyss?". Ornstein sighed and faced her, gripping her shoulders. "I swear to answer all your questions in due time, but for now I ask you this, may we please make haste? He is dear to me".

Noticing the uncharacteristic urgency in his voice, she nodded with a determination in her eyes. "If he is your friend, then I will help you find him".

The two knights walked to the very bottom of the lake, a gaping hole sat floating in mid air. "Ornstein, we may not return.", she looked at him seriously, and he nodded. They pressed on towards it.

Eira screamed. A black, monstrous hand had reached out from the portal and gripped her tightly in its fist. "Eira!, Ornstein bellowed, and dived onto the hand. They vanished, every trace of them existing within Lordran, gone.

\---------------

Blood merged with the colour of silver, an unconscious woman upon the ground as crimson pooled from her forehead like a crown. 

The golden knight had taken a hard fall, though his armour protected him. He was at Eiras side in an instant. Bonfire up ahead, He picked her up carefully and set her beside it. 

"Eira?", he shook her shoulder, wiping the blood that had began to drop onto her eyes. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, the familiar helmet of a lion above her. 

Standing, he reached a hand out towards her. Eira blinked, gazing at his hand, before finally slipping her own into his to grasp it. He pulled her to her feet, steadying her for a moment. One hand rested against his arm, blue eyes moving to slowly glance up at him.

They were silent for a moment, his hand within hers while she leaned against him. "Thank you.", she offered a small smile. Ornstein did not miss the conflict within her eyes, the confusion. He nodded, and began walking alongside her to the exit of the cave.

A complicated set of emotions flooded his entire being. Though, at the sound of a roar, he stopped. "A dragon?", Eira wondered aloud, and Ornstein shook his head. "Definitely not. Let us investigate."

Upon investigation, Eira was less than thrilled to come face to face with a Manticore. Ornstein put an arm out to stop her from moving. "I will handle this."

Eira shook her head. "I can fight, you know this." 

"Yes, and yet I have been assigned to protect you. It would do us both a favour, saving you from death." His voice appeared cold, but the feeling within him proved otherwise.

Eira appeared to visibly be at a loss of words at that, but she stood back regardless, and allowed him to deal with the matter.

It was simple, really. He had slain many dragons in single hits, this beast would be no challenge. Leaping, he forcefully pushed his spear into the beasts head, sparks of electricity flashing off of him. With a sickening crunch, he pulled his spear from its head. 

Glancing at Eira, he noticed that she had already made her way to the exit, and followed closely. They came to a sanctuary of sorts, the air still and silent, with a bonfire in the middle. 

Upon further inspection, there was indeed sign of life, one that came in the shape of a mushroom. "Ornstein, look, that must be the guardian of this bonfire!" 

Rushing over, the mushroom blinked open its eyes, and smiled. "What far away age hast thou came? Thy scent is very human, though yours is not." She looked upon Ornstein. "Hast thou come to avenge the Abysswalker?" 

"You know of him? Where is he?"

The mushroom shut her eyes. "Knight Artorias came to stop this, but such a hero has nary a murmur of Dark. Without doubt, he will be swallowed by the Abyss, overcome by its utter blackness."

she opened her eyes then, and gazed upon Ornstein sadly. "Thou should heed my words, and stay away, for thou will surely meet the same fate".

Eira shook her head and gestured to the knight. "Swallowed? That is preposterous. Ornstein is a knight of Gwyn, such a blackness would not harm him!"

In truth, he was surprised at her praise. But alas, the mushroom was correct. The guardian merely sighed. "I speak no lie, that I assure thou. Such A soul with not a nary of darkness will be consumed, much like thine friend. If thou does wish to face such atrocities, thou must avoid the dark clutches at all costs, for the abyss will surely swallow thou whole."

The mushroom gazed upon the sky. "Tis dark. Thou should rest, and prepare for the battle ahead. "

Reluctantly, the two knights agreed, and sat at the bonfire. Worry consumed their minds for various reasons, and the two stayed quiet for some time. 

Emerald eyes peering through the eyes of his golden helmet, Ornstein could immediately see the hazy bubble Eira had enclosed around herself, a slight frown sharpening her usually soft features.

Gazing into the fire, Eira spoke. " Will the darkness take you? Have you no way of fending against it?"

Ornstein gazed at the flames intently. "Not even the Abysswalker could protect himself. I do not know what will happen from here on, but rest assured, I will be cautious of the dark, for I still have a duty to uphold." 

He was purely serious when he stated that, though the shy smile from the woman beside him made his chest tighten. It wasn't often that such delicate emotions were depicted upon her face.

"Ornstein."

He glanced at her then, her shaken voice capturing his attention.

"Your friend, he may not be the man you once knew. If that is the case, then..", she trailed off.

Ornstein knew what she had indicated, and refused to speak on the matter anymore. 

Reaching into her pocket, Eira gave a ring to Ornstein. "This ring allows me to traverse the abyss, much like the time we fought the 4 kings. If your friend is the only Abysswalker, then I must be right in assuming this is his.", she gently placed it in his palm. "Hopefully, it will protect you."

Ornstein gazed down at the ring, his fingers grazing over the insignia of a faded wolf. He closed his eyes. "Thank you." 

They departed soon after.

\----------------------

They happened upon a narrow, stone bridge, a vast river beneath them. Ahead of them was a small hill leading to a forest, with few of the forests guardians standing watch. 

Ornstein disposed of the many weak enemies whilst Eira continued onward, unfazed by the enemies as they were swiftly dealt with. The forest was thick with trees and a few small ponds, the ground littered with fallen branches and leaves. The area was beautiful, Eira thought. 

"This place holds a mystical beauty, one would not think that the abyss lurks beneath it." Eira thought aloud.

"Indeed. Come, there is a bridge beyond the trees.", Ornstein leaped down onto lower ground which was swarming with enemies and rock titans. Disposing of them swiftly, Eira jumped down beside him and smiled. "Ah, the amount of souls I am gaining is refreshing, and I have not lifted a finger!"

Ornstein rolled his eyes. They had made it through the trees and ahead of them lay open, grassed ground with a stone bridge leading to another mass of land. Eira swiftly made her way in its direction, waving him over as she neared. 

Ornstein followed leisurely, and as he stood beside her, he froze. The land was silent, too silent. The air had changed, the sound of a violent swooshing gaining closer at an alarming rate. 

Eira remained oblivious, and moved to step along the bridge. Ornstein gripped her harshly, dragging her back to him and she gasped. "What is wrong?"

Ornstein grimaced.

Upon the stone bridge, a dragon as black as the abyss stood perched, the bridge shaking violently at the pressure of its weight. 

Eira shook violently in fright at the harsh slamming of its feet upon the bridge, and she instinctively backed away into him, her back flush to his chest. She moved to display her horror and opened her mouth, only for a hand to be roughly pushed against her mouth.

A harsh whisper met her ears. "You will not speak, breathe or think. You will stand still, and you will do nothing." 

Eira did not move, her eyes wide with panic. Why weren't they running!? This beast was enormous, it would surely destroy even the Dragonslayer! Quivering, Eiras body began to retreat further out of pure instinct, though the iron like grip upon her arm prevented any moving.

She realised why, out of all options, they stood still. The dragon leaned forward upon the bridges edge, it's wings extending, ready to soar throufh the sky once more.

It was growling deeply, and before departure, a single, red eye gazed heatedly upon the two knights. Ornstein did not move an inch, for he knew no harm would come from this situation. Eira, however, was shaking. He could feel it vibrating lightly against his armour. 

With one last growl, the monstrosity flew high into the sky, and disappeared. After a moment of standing still, Ornstein gently dropped his hand from her mouth and stood back to allow her space. Regardless, Eira simply backed further into him at his attempt of regaining personal space. 

Snorting, he brushed passed her to stand in front of her upon the bridge. She appeared to be horrified, complexion pale. "That..that Did not appear as kind as the dragon in ashen lake."

Ornstein shook his head. "The dragon from the lake is the only dragon to do no harm to humans. It is a covenant bearer, and a mystery, at that. This dragon, however, is the bringer of calamity, an ancient beast that not even those of Anor Londo desired to provoke."

Ornstein walked ahead. "It's name is Kalameet, the last ancient dragon. Make haste, for we do not want to encounter it once more."

Eira ran to keep up, and stuck beside him closely. "And you..fought those beasts on a regular basis?"

"Indeed. I am a slayer of dragons, the most elite of all. You would be foolish to not fear that beast, for it is wise."

Eira glanced up at him. "And he is a bringer of calamity? How so?"

Ornstein frowned. " It is he who destroyed the human district within Anor Londo, destroying its food supply. It certainly took time to drive it away." 

He watched her face turn into a scowl, and spoke no further on her past. 

Up ahead, trees were scattered though not enough to be a forest. They were on higher ground now, a cliff, and it overlooked the entirety of the land. 

Ornstein swiftly disposed of the enemies once more as Eira picked up the many treasures she could find, such as pieces of titanite and the souls of long lost warriors. 

Finally exiting the sparse group of trees, they stopped abruptly. Ahead of them, on another mass of land, stood a gargantuan, crumbling colosseum. Eiras eyes glistened with wonder. "Such beauty.", she overlooked the cliff then, a small town in the distance. " That is our next destination, through the colosseum." She pointed.

Ornstein nodded. Hopefully, Artorias would be found. Dread seeped into his veins. 

Entering a small, stone building, they descended upon a lift that had moved with magic, and walked out to now be facing the colosseum. Up ahead, Eira saw another undead, and walked over quickly. 

The character wore a long cloak and hat with a mask in a perpetually smiling state. He regarded her lazily, incredible amusement held within his voice. "Oh, let me guess - Snatched by a shadowy limb, and dragged off to the past?" He questioned sarcastically, for he already knew the answer.

Eira nodded. "Indeed, you are the first undead we have happened upon."

The stranger leaned against the wall carelessly, "Now there is two of us, at least."

Eira smiled and nodded, turning to walk down the bridge, towards the colosseum. She heard the man chuckle. 

"My, my, leaving so soon? Did you happen across Knight Artorias? The legendary Abysswalker, from the old tales. He's a colourless sort, if you ask me."

Ornstein glared at him through his helmet. "What do you know of him?" He asked coldly, barely containing his aggression. 

The stranger in question cackled now, waving a dismissive hand. "I heard the abyss found him, how marvellously treacherous." 

Ornstein moved to stand in front of him, but stopped as a small arm was put in front if him. Her eyes told him to remain calm. 

She turned to the stranger. "Tell me, do you know much of this mysterious land?"

The male shrugged, folding his arms. "Believe it or not, Oolacile has brought the Abyss upon itself. Fooled by that toothy serpent, they upturned the grave of primeval man, and incited his ornery wrath. What could they have been thinking?" 

He laughed with a mocking tone. "But to you and I, it's all ancient history. You have to ask yourself: Does it really matter?" 

Eira felt cold at his words, for he was right. What did it matter? Glancing at Ornstein, she knew it mattered to him deeply. Furthermore, the toothy serpent he spoke of, could it be Frampt or Kaathe? Who was the traitor?

"Thank you for your time.", Eira smiled.

The male gazed upon her face, the lecherous smile of his mask unnerving her. "My, whatever is the matter, dear? Such a forlorn look in your eyes. No, I can tell, you need me more than you know." He chuckled cruelly, and she was sure his gaze was sinking through her armour. 

"You will silence yourself." The cold, deep voice of the Dragonslayer spoke beside her. The stranger grumbled, but otherwise remained quiet.

The arrived to the entrance of a fog gate, and Eira stilled. "I do not know what lies beyond here, but from the words of that stranger...", she trailed off.

Ornstein grimaced. "Let us not dwell, we must go forth."

Eira pushed through.


	10. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had expected the worst, stepping through the ominous fog wall.
> 
> If was far more horrific than either of them could have imagined. 
> 
> Survival was vital, now more than ever. Survival of one's mind and physical body was, thankfully, a success.
> 
> Companionship, however, might now be a long, lost cause as lies and repressed anger are now forced to the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is violent. And sad. And stressful. It was bound to happen. Praise the sun \\[T]/ 
> 
> Pls enjoy with a moment of silence for our fallen bro, even if he isn't a sunbro. Bros welcome and respect all. Solaire would be proud :') \\[T]/ \\[T]/ \\[T]/
> 
> LEMME KNOW WHAT YA THINK

Stepping through the fog wall, a tall, imposing figure had its back to her, their armour black and blue, a colossal greatsword in one hand, while the other dropped limply, as though broken.

"Whatever thou art, stay away." The voice of a defeated knight spoke, and Eiras eyes widened. "You.. You are Artorias? The knight who helped my people so long ago?"

The knight turned sluggishly, his mobility reduced. "Ah, it is you. Please, leave, and do not look back, for soon, I will be consumed." His voice croaked. 

"Artorias?!", a voice to her left bellowed in complete shock and relief, and the knight in question lifted his head with visible effort, his body slouched painfully. "O..Ornstein? Captain? Surely mine eyes are casting tricks."

Eira froze, her blood turning to ice. Captain? Ornstein had told her that he was a captain long after the knights that had helped her..

Ornstein stepped forward, "No tricks, Artorias. I am here, and how i have missed you dearly.". His voice was desperate and strained. "Come", he held out a hand, "You are safe now, friend."

Artorias' head lolled to the side, his breathing harsh. His blade dragged against the floor as his body fought to sustain the weight. " Soon, I will be consumed. By them, by the dark." His voice shook, and his body began to twitch. 

Ornstein shook his head, voice shaking too, he would not hide his sadness. "Artorias, please. A part of me died when you did not return. Gough and Ciaran have vanished. Please, I.. "

A grunt came from the tall knight, and then a cough. Black sludge oozed from his mouth, seeping down his form and onto the floor. "Captain, I have failed you. Leave, while I am still sane.", he whispered hoarsely. 

Ornstein reached out to him, "I will not! You are my friend! My only friend..", his voice became soft as he gazed upon his friends pain.

Atorias' imposing form slouched further, his limp arm dragging against the ground. "Captain..", he choked, falling to his knees.

An animalistic, distorted scream of anger was released from the knights throat, a black sludge raising around him, circling him. Hands upon the ground, a vile substance of black splattered from his mouth, and he gasped for breath.

"Artorias!", Ornstein called urgently, running towards him. A blade that had saved him many times, the blade he had sparred with, the blade that had defined the knight before him, was now pointed at him. 

Artorias convulsed violently. "I beg of thee, the spread of the abyss", he choked, coughing up more of the sludge, "must be stopped!" He shouted.

His body was dragged to his feet, and soon, the voice of Artorias ceased to exist, now replaced with a distorted, monstrous voice. His limp form slowly heaved the greatsword to his shoulder, and he screeched with rage.

"No..no.." Ornstein whispered. He closed his eyes. He would not allow his friend to suffer further. He would end this. His only concern was Eira, for she had no chance against the ferocious knight. 

An unsettling, raspy breathing pierced the air as Artorias circled the two knights. His gaze lingered on Eira, and he jumped, sommer saulting in the air and smashing his greatsword down where she stood. Eira screamed and barely dodged to the side, her eyes widening as he had already began a second flip and was aiming for her once more. 

Ornsteins body had jumped in front of her, his spear held horizontally to block the lethal attack. "Artorias, stop! It is I, your friend!" He bellowed, but to no avail. Eira scrambled to her feet quickly, only to be targeted once again.

Artorias charged forward at a terrifying speed, his greatsword wielded with one arm as he swung ferociously at Eira. She jumped back, but the tip managed to get her, slicing her across the stomach. Her eyes widened, blood flowing and pooling through her armour that he had destroyed so easily. She stood no chance against such a seasoned warrior. 

Ornstein froze. His life had stopped before him as he watched his friend attack the woman he swore to protect. Shouting in frustration, he charged at him with brutal speed, pushing his towering form harshly, watching him smash into a wall.

Eira held her stomach, grunting in pain. She looked towards Artorias, fear pooling in the depths of her eyes as she saw him rise. Ornstein charged at him again, jaw clenched with glassy eyes. 

"Your fight is with me, Abysswalker!", he spat angrily, "do not harm her, for she is a woman you once helped! I have sworn to protect her at all costs - Do not make me do this!" The Dragonslayer roared, weapon pointed at him maliciously. 

The knight groaned and cried out as he fought the abyss, gripping his head painfully. " Stay back, for i do not wish to harm her. The darkness, it is taking over me!" He screamed, his voice once again distorting, as though being viciously strangled by an unseen force.

With a snarl, the knight leapt, an unending cycle of attacks aimed at Eira as she ran across the arena, while Ornstein blocked each attack with increasing difficulty. This was no mere foe, this was a knight of Gwyn. 

Screeching, Artorias pushed forcefully against Ornsteins spear, his feet pushing into the dirt from the strength of his attacks. "Artorias, please, fight it!" 

Suddenly, a fist connected with Ornsteins stomach, forcing him to the ground. Artorias stood above him, snarling and growling down at him, before his eyes landed on Eira. He leapt once more, barreling into his overhead attacks over and over. Eira rolled, dived, did everything to escape, but he was too fast. His sword caught her leg, and she fell with a harsh thud, crying out at the pain of snapped bone.

He lifted his sword above his head, though just before he could kill the woman beneath him, a spear pierced his armour, cutting a line from shoulder to hip. "Do not force my hand, Artorias, please!"

The knight turned, full of rage, and readied his sword to swing at Ornstein. Ornstein grit his teeth, he could not fight his friend. He could not.

The barrage of attacks had him blocking each one, until he kicked Ornstein back suddenly and brought his sword upon Ornsteins shoulder.

Ornstein collapsed to his knees. Eira screamed. "No, get away from him, come after me!", she bellowed loudly, and the twitching man turned, head lolling side to side in an unsettling manner. With a scream, he lunged at her. 

Eira rolled out of the way, staring up at his terrifying height as he repeatedly brought his greatsword down upon her. Ornstein gripped his shoulder with a hiss, his friend had pierced the armour, cutting through his shoulder. He could feel the dampness of blood seep through his skin, his eyes blurry and wavering.

Eira sprinted to the other side of the arena with Artorias following closely, violently wretching and spewing up black sludge. Eira screamed.

He had caught her, gripping her by her arm as he dragged her to him with a brutal force, she was sure he dislocated her arm. Thinking quickly, Eira unleashed a multitude of pyromancy upon the knights face, to which he collapsed backwards and dropped her, screeching as he grabbed his face. 

His breathing was even harsher now. "Thou are strong, human.", he spoke softly, and groaned once more, a violent scream splitting the air. It was almost as though the human part of him was truly happy that she was able to fight back.

Eira backed away. She gasped as a spear had been cut at his arm brutally, blood spurting onto the ground. The knight turned slowly, angrily. Ornstein stood, the snarl of his lions helmet portraying his confidence. "Artorias, my friend. You are darkness, I see that now. I will deliver peace unto you." 

The knight merely stood for a moment, a blackness surrounding his being. It swirled like a swarm of insects, like pools of cancerous black aiming to taint whatever it touched. "Eira, move!", Ornstein shouted urgently, but she was too late. The blast of the attack had sent her flying into the air, skidding across the floor on her side. She coughed violently, blood painting her face. 

Artorias dropped to his knees, hands gripping his head once more as he screamed in agony. Suddenly, his voice pierced through the darkness. 

"Surely thine kind are more than pure dark..?", he spat, his voice shook violently, sadly, sludge began to ooze off of him now. 

Eira whimpered, weakly reaching out to him. "Please, do not let it consume you." Slowly, his hand reached out to her too, but quickly retracted as he began to scream angrily once more. "Run" he spat through the distorted voice, the last part of him wishing her safety.

She did. Scrambling to her feet with tears rolling down her cheeks, she ran and ran as Ornstein jumped in to deflect his attacks and stab at him violently.

Artorias was now limping pitifully, but his wrath only served to grow stronger. Ornstein managed to jab at him with his spear a few times, blood and blackness sticking to the tip of it. Artorias was now screaming insanely, slashing attacks upon the Dragonslayer brutally.

Ornstein jumped back with a gasp, but misjudged the distance. The greatsword had sunk into his armour once more, slicing a deep wound across his chest and stomach. Ornsteins eyes widened as he collapsed to one knee, blood pouring from him violently. Coughing, he spat blood into his helmet, one hand now coated in his own blood as he gripped his stomach. 

His ears rung with a white noise, everything around him moving in slow motion. He could not hear or see, merely stared ahead in confusion. This was his friend.

Eira screamed, "Ornstein!"

Tears and blood dripping down her face, she ran at the monstrosity head on, screaming in rage and utter sadness and pain for the pitiful sight of the Abysswalker. 

She lunged, and he screamed. Her sword pierced through his back, his neck turning erratically to glance at the offending weapon. In a flash, he had turned, and lifted her above his head by her neck.

Eira coughed violently, gripping his hands as she tried to pry them off desperately. He screeched into her face, and she cried, squeezing her eyes shut. 

Ornstein shakily stood to his feet, breathing harshly as blood poured down his front. He blearily gazed at Artorias, and his eyes widened. No...

The greatsword pierced her stomach roughly, her eyes wide and terrified. Blood dripped down her entire person like a waterfall, mouth and nose cascading blood. Shakily, she looked down at the weapon pierced through her stomach with disbelief, and gripped his hands. She gazed at his face, her own becoming deathly pale. " Please...", she whispered.

Artorias faltered.

Both knights jolted at the sound of a purely pained, raw scream of rage. Before Artorias could even turn, a spear electrified by lightning stabbed through his stomach, and he dropped Eira as he gripped his stomach, collapsing to the ground. 

His breathing came in short breaths, blood seeping in a puddle around his body. The knight weakly reached a hand to the sky, sobbing. 

Artorias slowly turned to look at him, squeezing his hand. "All of you, forgive me", he spoke shamefully, sadly, "for I have availed you nothing."

Ornsteins breath shuddered. " If it were not for you, the abyss would have swallowed us all. Thank you, my friend, thank you. I will never forget you, I swear it."

Artorias sighed softly, squeezing his hand one last time, "Tell her...I'm sorry..." he choked with a sob, before finally, he stopped moving. 

Ornsteins tears fell freely, the wound in his stomach making him weak. Heaving himself to his feet, he ran over to Eiras pained form with great difficulty, gently lifting her head in his hand. "Eira? I will help you. Do not move, I.."

She shook her head slowly, tears and blood framing her face. "Do not worry, for I will come back.", she gasped, breathes quickening painfully, blood continually pouring out of her gaping gut. The sight was horrific. 

With a shout, Ornstein pulled her into his arms and forced himself to his feet. "I cannot chance that. There is a bonfire,", he gasped from the pain, "You will be safe." 

Forcing his legs to run, he shouted in agony as he did so, but he did not stop. Once at the bonfire, her eyes were heavy, face deathly pale. He laid her down, and collapsed beside her. His breathing was ragged now, eyes blurry as black spots entered his vision.

He fell to the ground.

\--------------------

Eira awoke with a gasp, a jolt of pain shooting through her abdomen. The wound had slowly closed, though not fully yet. Glancing around frantically, her heart stopped when she saw the slumped figure of Ornstein, barely breathing.

Scrambling over to him, she shook him violently. "Ornstein? Wake up!" She shouted, tears building in her eyes. 

Urgently, she kneeled before him, and began fumbling with the clasps of his broken armour plate. Once undone, she ripped it off, bearing his entire front to her. A gash from his shoulder met his hip, while a second had cut across his entire gut. Shakily, she tipped three bottles of estus on the life threatening wounds. 

Diving into his armour, she retrieved the talisman that he had always carried wjth him. She gripped it with shaking, bloodied hands, copying the words he used and the actions of his hands.

She repeated it a few times, each time more frantically, until eventually, a light glow began to emanate from her hands, healing his wounds at an agonising pace. 

Tears blurred her vision now, teeth clenched as sobs wracked through her whole body violently. "Do not die. You cannot die!", she spat angrily, eyes squeezing shut as she worked the miracle across his wounds. 

It took hours. For so long, Eira sat in the same position as fresh blood oozed from her wounds, and she used the miracle on him as many times as possible, replenishing it at the bonfire frequently. 

Gripping the many bandages from her inventory, she scrambled over to him, struggling to lift him to a sitting position against the cool, stone wall. Once she did, she shakily wrapped layers upon layers of bandages around his wounds to prevent the bleeding. 

Eyes stinging from her incessant tears, she stared at his helmet. Should she remove it? Then she remembered...

Artorias had called him captain.

She did not wish to confront such a matter yet, for it did not matter. Standing, she wrapped an arm around him and wobbled as she supported his weight upon her, almost collapsing. With his arms around her shoulder, he quite literally towered over her with unbearable weight. Gritting her teeth, she heaved him down the steps of the township, and into the tiny shelter. 

She heard a hiss, and with a cry of pure rage, she stabbed her sword into a monsters bulging head repeatedly, screaming and shouting with rage and agony, until it's head lay a bloodied, mushy mess. 

Scrambling to Ornstein once more, she laid him upon a small blanket from her inventory, his chestplate leaning against the wall. Ornsteins breathing had calmed considerably, now it was merely a waiting game. 

Stripping herself of her wrecked armour, she began dragging herself over to him. She curled up beside him, clutching her stomach. She held his muscular arm tightly within her grasp, eyes squeezed shut as she whimpered and cried throughout the night.

It no longer mattered who he was, or what he had done. 

It was almost like a leftover, innocent shard had resurfaced, in desperate need of the comfort she never had.

\---------------------

Emerald eyes awoke with a start, a sharp intake of breath causing him to cough. He layed upon his back, a stiffness settling into his bones as his wounds ached. Where was he? Who had brought him here?

He had moved to sit, but stopped. Two small hands were gripping his bicep tightly, securely. He looked down to his right, his heart jolting at the state that she was in. 

Her face contorted in distress, tears and blood staining her face. The hands which clutched him were fully crimson and dried, and she had rid of her armour, displaying her tattered vest and bottoms, cuts and gashes lathering her arms and shoulders. 

And she was holding him so tightly, so desperately, as though he would leave. Foreign emotions flooded his being. He was grateful for her slumber at that moment 

Large hands touched his chest, smoothing over the tight bandages. It dawned on him, then. She had saved him. Gazing at the wall beside him, he saw his armour, gashed and bloodied. He grimaced and closed his eyes, his mind filling with images of Artorias. He could not stop the stray tears from slipping down his cheeks, a silent mourning for a long lost friend. 

A shifting beside him brought him out of his thoughts, and he glanced down at the silver head nestled on his arm. She groaned, one hand gently touching his chest, feeling the bandages almost unconsciously.

He did not speak, merely lie silently as her small palms smoothed over the surface of his chest, most likely checking for signs of blood. 

Then, almost child-like, he felt her hands retreat softly to his side and wrap around his arm once more. She had no reason to, none at all, other than for a semblance of comfort. He could feel her tense and stiff, though still holding on. In fact, her rigidness only made her move closer.

Shifting, the woman moved her entire body to his side as gently as possible. She had hoped he wasn't awake. Little did she know. 

Ornstein swallowed a cough and promptly shut his eyes once more. This will remain a secret, they both thought.

An hour later, Ornstein shifted uncomfortably, a hand moving to grip his chest. Suddenly, the woman had bolted up right, yelping in pain but promptly ignoring it as she rose to her knees, turning to face him. 

Her eyes were frantic, innocent and broken. "You're alive?", she breathed, disbelief etched onto her face, eyes glistening with unshed tears. He nodded weakly, " Do not worry, I am here. Though, I'm sure that has foiled your plans of ridding me for good.", he joked, and was relieved to hear her exhale a laugh, eyes brightening for a mere moment. 

Her hand gently touched the uninjured part of his chest, her lip quivering. "Do not scare me like that again.", she whispered, gazing at his helmet with utter sadness. 

He slowly lifted his arm, hesitantly, and moved it to rest on her slim back. Her eyes widened a fraction, though soon, she rested her head upon his chest. 

"I do not wish to face the reality of our situation yet. For now, we are friends mourning the loss of a great knight", she whispered, eyes closing. 

He nodded weakly. He knew, that the conversation would come up eventually, destroying the companionship they had formed. For now, his pride had dropped, and he merely embraced her with one arm as they both fought to cope with the situation with Artorias. 

Eiras breath hitched as Ornsteins bare hand and arm had wrapped around her protectively, fingertips brushing over her shoulder softly. He had never been so close to the woman before, and now to feel her bare skin upon his own - it stirred a feeling deep within his chest. 

His mind was clouded. Of course he wouldnt do this under any other circumstances..

Eira had certainly felt the same, her gaze lingering on his broad, toned chest. What was happening? She did not want to question their situation, in fear that it would break. They both needed comfort, even if they would not voice it. 

Ornstein was certainly delirious, having been on the brink of death. Perhaps that was his reason. But Eira..

She closed her eyes. It would do no good to think about it. 

Ornstein lay with open eyes staring at the shelter above them. With his thoughts on Artorias, Gough and Ciaran, his hand absentmindedly traced gentle patterns upon her shoulder, a ghost of a touch, and he could not help but hear the hitch in her breath. He paused momentarily, mind whirling into areas he does not wish to delve into. 

After what felt like hours of simply laying there, with Ornstein falling in and out of consciousness, he awoke to find her gone.


	11. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle is done. Artorias has fallen, may peace forever grace his soul. Now, amidst the utter chaos that ensues after, Eira and Ornstein share in moments of vulnerability and melancholy as they mourn for a friend now gone, and perhaps even their companionship.
> 
> Bitterness is never a pleasant taste, but it certainly is comforting to oneself. Mutuality now shattered, the road ahead is a dark one, quite literally. Though, within all darkness shines a beacon of light, no matter how small. And that fragment comes in the form of a long, lost forgotten King. Who would've thought that such knowledge would be found in this type of book? A mockery to Gwyn indeed, and yet..
> 
> It truly allows light to prevail in this abyssal cancer that they have entered. 
> 
> But ornstein knows, as the realist he is, things are about to get far more worse before they ever repair. Now, bracing oneself for the future ahead is a must. 
> 
> Hopefully, they don't get engulfed along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay another chapter. So I found this to be kind of..shattering. literally. Like, the situation is shit. There, I summed up over 5000 words in one word - S H I T. 
> 
> But still, WE MOVE MY LOVELIES, WE MOVE. We must prevail! There is hope for them i swear ❤
> 
> Pls enjoy x

The tall knight stood to his feet with great difficulty. Unlike the undeads, his wounds would not heal so quickly. Usually, yes, however being within the centre of the dark, its place of origin, was utterly catastrophic to his usual strength and healing abilities. 

Furthermore, having been sliced by a weapon crafted by the Gods would certainly take its toll, more so considering Artorias strength had been imbued by the dark. The impact could've been fatal. 

Standing tall, he released a long breath, and touched his bandages which were wrapped around his torso. Glancing to the left briefly, he noted that his armour had disappeared, the familiar clinking sounds resonating up the steps. He felt odd wearing the legs and helmet of his armour. Slowly, he followed the sound at a leisurely pace, ascending the steps and turning the corner.

A comforting glow emitted from the bonfire within the Township, a small figure hunched beside it with his armour in her hands. She appeared to be using her smithbox from the bonfire, and was placing a considerable amount of souls into fixing it. 

For a moment, he merely stood and gazed around the township. Yes, he had been here before, though under better circumstances thousands of years ago. The town had collapsed upon itself, or perhaps it was the land converging in odd ways, for now the town led into the depths of the abyss. 

The town used to thrive. It was vast with a wide open space for shops, markets, houses, schools. Now all of that was gone - a few houses left to rot in the remnants of the ancient town.

He was never fond of the place, personally. But for the sake of peace, it was vital that the captain of Gwyns knights made appearances now and again. Their sorceries were valuable during the war. Gazing at Eira, a fleeting thought came as quickly as it left - she would've like this place in its prime.

Dusk, the princess, was unknown to him until their short meeting yesterday. Clearly, it has been millennia since he last travelled here. Years within the cathedral had warped his sense of time, and now to be within Oolacile - in the past - truly demonstrates just how must time has passed. After all, isn't the darkroot forest technically Oolacile in his present time? 

Even a God-like creature such as himself couldn't comprehend the vast converging of land from multiple timelines. 

Emerald eyes soon focused on the mountains surrounding the area, on the lookout for Kalameet. No doubt it was dwelling somewhere close. Hopefully, today will not be the day the Dragonslayer faces the abyss and a calamitous dragon at the same time. That would indeed be unfortunate. 

Blinking, he was brought back to the present, watching Eira work for a moment. Her silver hair was draping over one shoulder, touching the floor. Parts of the locks had clumped with blood and mud. Her delicate, determined face had dried blood painting from her forehead and nose, the trail going as far as her neck. 

Upon closer inspection, he saw that her hands were completely covered in the liquid, splatteres drying up onto her arms. Her arms had many cuts and violent bruises from being thrown by Artorias, though her stomach was far worse. The shape of the gash had outlined her vest with blood, and he wondered why she hadn't rested at the bonfire yet.

The sudden sharpness of her gaze lingering upon him brought him out of his thoughts, her previously tear stained face and pitiful eyes now replaced with a steely wall and eyes as cold as ice. "I took the time to fix your armour up." 

Ornstein trudged over, sitting the opposite side of the bonfire. With a grunt, he held his breath at the searing pain in his abdomen when he sat. "My thanks, but why have you not healed yourself?" 

He watched her shrug. She was indeed very guarded. "I had other things to worry about, such as yourself and the state of your armour."

Ornstein shook his head. " If I am to protect you, you must heal now. Do not concern yourself with--"

Her eyes snapped to him. "I will concern myself with whatever I like. It keeps me busy, keeps my mind off of..", she paused with a slow inhale, "certain subjects." 

The knight sighed loudly, his own irritation building. The events as of late could not have correlated worse than they already did, between Solaires death, Artorias death and her own suspicions of his past self. 

"I tire of your insolent attitude, I am in no mood for it. Keep it to yourself.", he spoke coldly. They had other things to be worrying about first. Slowly, he stood. "And I am sick of this.. sludge which lathers my armour.", his hand swiped at the offending sludge upon his legs.

He huffed and began to walk toward Artorias resting place. "And where do you think your going in such a sorry state?", drawled Eira mockingly, lips a tight line. 

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "To bathe. There is a secluded river around the Royal wood, I happened to notice it when we crossed the bridge from the Sanctuary. It is beside a bonfire, it will not take long to get to.

Eira stood to her feet with a hiss, her own body aching terribly. "Im coming too. I am soaked in blood."

Warping to the Sanctuary, they made their way to the stone bridge and descended the slope, down to the river. Ornstein pointed. "Go and bathe. I will stand watch for intruders." 

Eira rolled her eyes. "There are none, we are in the past! Hush and get in the water." She had sat upon the dried banking of the river and began removing her shoes, revealing small, pale feet. 

Ornstein cocked a brow, watching her throw her shoes to the side. "You wish to bathe together?" He asked slowly, disbelief etched into his voice. 

He heard her huff childishly. "No, I do not. The river is big, and has many hidden spots, I'm sure we can bathe quickly and separately then continue our journey."

He bit his tongue. "And if an intruder happens upon your vulnerable state..? Do you plan to splash them?"

Eira glared at him. "Then i will cut their eyes out. But fine, if you insist, captain." She spat, storming across the river, before vanishing behind a rock. 

Ornstein rubbed his temples. He was truly surprised at his level of patience.

Eira checked the surrounding area for any sight of prying eyes, relaxing as she found that she was alone. Slipping her vest and awful trousers off of her curvy frame, she threw them upon the large rock which shone with green mold.

Silver hair began to pool around her as her body descended the deep parts of the river, nimble feet dropping lower upon the smooth rocks until she was submerged. It was freezing, but she welcomed the bitter feeling. Luckily, this secluded section was calm and far from any currants. Sighing, she shivered pleasantly as the water reached above her shoulders and closed her eyes. 

Ornstein sat with a frown, his spear in hand. He felt odd, wearing all his armour apart from his chestplate. His mind wandered to the events from the day before. The state in which Artorias was in pained him deeply, for he surely suffered for perhaps millennia.

He was perhaps the strongest man he had ever met, fighting such a darkness for the safety of others. He admired him, he was a true friend. His blood forever soaks the Dragonslayers hands, but he cannot regret his decision. No, for now his friend sleeps peacefully. 

He gazed around the vast river, mind only half conscious as he thought of Eira. She had patched him up, and though he was barely alive from such fatal wounds, he captured part of her words and her crying.

She wailed for him to not leave her and to wake up. The woman even cuddled against him - it was bizarre. Perhaps the events of everything had gotten to her, for it had certainly cracked through his walls. In truth, he found comfort from her touches, and chastised himself for admitting such a thing. It was not her, per se, merely the fact that another living thing was beside him other than Smough. That was refreshing at least.

Was he not her knight? Her armour? It is simply inappropriate to engage in such a display of affection. Her skin was warm, her body small as it pressed against his side. It is not a thought that would easily leave his mind. 

It was different. When he led many soldiers through Lordran for various battles and to claim settlements, he had grown accustomed to sleeping beside men, very closely even. It was for warmth. Many female soldiers politely stayed within their corner, unless the temperature was practically sub zero. Even then, it was all for survival. Pressed against a woman made hardly a difference when in armour. (Though many shied away from him)

What Eira had done was not for survival, and therefore he was unaccustomed.

Emerald eyes continued to gaze upon natures beauty. Eira had mentioned that she was accustomed to bathing in local rivers surrounded by men and women, whereas he was not. Still, the privacy here was appreciated. 

Eyes glancing across moldy rocks, he happened upon the rock that Eira was currently sat behind. Her tattered clothes lay high upon the dry rock, her Uchigatana neatly beside them. 

He averted his gaze, and turned his body to stare at the nature ahead of him instead. Until he heard a splash. Cautiously, he turned his head and glanced over once more. Humming could be heard from behind the rock, a soft, delicate sound. 

Eira was floating upon her back, ears under the water as she allowed her long hair to freely flow within the soothing liquid, blood and dirt parting with her silver locks. 

She hummed a slow, melodic tune hailing from Zena, a country she very much loved. In fact, Domhnall had taught her the tune whilst on his travels as a merchant. Exhaling, she allowed herself to sink under the water, eyes glistening in wonder at the way the sun's rays reflected upon the waters surface. One would not think that such a tranquil place was doomed to the abyss.

It was quiet, so quiet. Smiling, she ran her fingers through the roots of her hair, relishing in its softness, a feeling she had not felt in so long. 

Breaking through the surface, she gasped for air, smoothing her long hair from her face as it cascaded down her back, the length increasing from the weight of the water and now stuck to below her backside. Gently, she rubbed her skin of any sweat, blood or mud, sighing with relief at the feeling of cleanliness. But of course, a familiar deep voice smashed through her tranquillity.

"Make haste, would you?", she heard a deep voice drawl from a distance. He rolled his eyes. A silver head bobbed behind the rock, before her wet arms finally rested upon the dry rock, her body hidden behind it. Her face held little amusement as she frowned. "Must you complain? You guarded a cathedral for millennia, I'm certain you can patiently wait for me to finish bathing. Dont forget, im covered in my blood, Artorias and yours. Mostly yours!"

He blinked, ignoring her. She was petite, that was easily noticeable, but now that he saw her bare shoulders, she truly was small. At least, compared to him. His eyes lingered upon the white scars trailing upon her shoulders. He wondered how they had occurred. Though, a knight acquires many scars over the years.

With a shake of her head, she soon returned to the water, her humming resuming. After about 20 minutes, Ornstein huffed. He was in no mood to argue, bicker or joke, for he was filthy and lathered in his thick layers of blood. "If you are a moment longer, I will bathe regardless of your attire. That is a promise.", he bit with a frown. 

He heard her incessant humming stop. "Will you, now? Well, I suppose it allows me the opportunity to witness your treacherous face", she spat from behind the rock and the Dragonslayer sighed loudly in return, rubbing his temples. Must she be so difficult? 

The Dragonslayer waited restlessly, irritation growing. He stood with a start, "My warning has been given, yet you do not move." She heard his footsteps make their way over to her, albeit slow. 

She perked up at hearing the sound of his armour being removed, eyebrows raising. "You're being serious? You're truly going to waltz into the river, passed my delicate eyes, naked?" 

Ornstein scoffed. "If your stories speak truth, then you have nothing to fear from male nudity. I suggest you hurry, for my patience is wearing thin." 

She made no response, merely folded her arms. Another sigh was heard. "Eira, do not test me. I am in no mood to argue or play your petty games.", his footsteps resumed, this time with very little patience. 

She stood then, her bare back facing him as her lower body was hidden behind the rock. "Honestly, as a knight of Gwyn I expected a tad more chivalry.", she cast her eyes over her shoulder, a small frown etched onto her face as her arms wrapped around her securely. From this angle, he could perfectly see the dips and curves of her body, including the brutal lashes upon her skin. 

"Are you mad? Have you no dignity?!" He exclaimed with shock. He saw her raise an eyebrow with a cool exterior, merely standing there as droplets of water trickled down the delicate small of her back, to areas he could not see (though he was not certain that he would complain of seeing it..)

"Are you quite done?", she snapped, "Careful, your eyes may burn holes through your helmet.", she huffed.   
He blinked, for he was speechless at her comment. Grunting, he turned away, gauntlets and the armour of his legs upon the floor. His waist and helmet remained. 

Slowly, she turned, her naked form bared to him. He knew it, too, but he would never turn. Nope. Wouldn't even think about her either. Not at all. 

Slowly, she dressed, grumbling about how he had rushed her. Glancing down at herself, she sighed loudly at the ripped trousers she wore. Honestly, it was practically a skirt at this point, and the vest didn't help either. 

Upon her grumbling, Ornstein sighed loudly. "Put the clothes on and hurry it up.", he demanded. Eira glared hard at his back, saulting mockingly even though he couldn't see her. "Yes, sir. Right away, sir", she hissed.

Glancing up at his form, she paused for a moment. His back was completely bared - she did not have a chance to see it before - and the muscles upon it were, well..

Delicious.

Eyes trailing downward, her brows raised at the strong calves he adorned, though she was not surprised. He was very strong, that much was certain. She couldn't particularly detest him for his arrogance when he looked so...

"When you have finished gawking like a maiden, leave me in peace." His back was turned, but he had known she was staring. She grit her teeth. Smug bastard. She did not reply, and began to walk towards him. Just as she moved to pass him, she tilted her head at a tuft of hair poking out from his helmet. It was bright red. 

Walking passed him in the clothes that now positively stuck to her due to the dampness of her skin, she couldn't help but smirk at the entire situation. Ornstein merely huffed at her obnoxious smirk, and swiftly turned, disappearing behind the rock.

\------------------------

Eira began to wonder the area, sighing as not even the sound of birds existed anymore. The beauty of this ancient city had surely been wasted, for it no longer existed in her time. She walked across the bridge, fighting the urge to gaze down at Ornsteins naked figure. (Though, she did capture a glimpse of red hair cascading down a muscular back..how was he to ever know?)

Shaking her head, she travelled up the empty hill, happening upon a crumbling, stone house with a magical lift. It would take her straight to the township, a very useful shortcut other than the bonfire.

Descending, she came across a small path with a bridge up ahead, nodding politely to the eerie man who still lingered against the wall. "My, my", he drawled slowly, "have you no shame?", he spoke innocently, deviously. She could tell by his voice that his eyes lingered over her form. 

"In fact, I do. But it appears that my confidence overrides it." She smiled tightly, and moved to cross the bridge. 

"Come, now", he spoke softly, disarmingly, as he moved from his spot against the wall. He was tall and lanky. "Are we not undead sharing the same fate in these lands? We should be civil, at the very least." 

Eira chose to ignore him. She was not fond of sly men. Cool fingers gripped her arm gently. He inhaled. "What ever is the matter?", his head moved and boldly indicated that he was looking at her from head to toe. "You need me more than ever.", he chuckled lowly. It was the same comment from yesterday.

Eira frowned, upturning her head defiantly. Before she could reply, he beat her to it. "Oh, before you speak, do not say the wrong thing in a situation such as yourself", he chuckled, indicating to her attire. 

Icy daggers glared into his mask. "You will release me.". The man cocked his head innocently, removing his slimy grip. "You deny me so soon? Surely your friend does not do the job, for I often hear you bickering", the smirk was evident in his voice. 

"Do not insinuate such nonsense. Leave me be.", she turned to leave, and his hand gripped her once again, more firmly this time. "Does he please you, lady? I am merely curious."

Eira reeled her fist back and punched him. "Do not speak to me with such disrespect." The man gripped his jaw, readjusting his mask. "So it has came to blows, has it?", he grimaced. 

"I'm certain it'll come to stabs if you do not shut your insolent mouth.", spoke a cool, deep voice. 

The male turned to meet the snarl of the lions helmet. "Oh? Such malicious threats. I cannot help but notice when a woman is in need of a, ah...special treatment." 

Eira scowled now, though soon her expression held amusement. "Really, now? You surely are an expert. Tell me, did my punch convey to you that I wanted you to bed me? Goodness, I dare not think what my sword would convey.", she smiled, eyes alight. 

The man scoffed, his malicious, innocent voice dropping briefly. "Your woman should learn to hold her tongue. Though, I cannot blame her, for I doubt you give her anything to occupy it with." 

In an instant, Eira had gripped the man and forced him into the wall. "I will give you something to suck on if you do not silence yourself. It's sharp, but I'm sure a sly tongue such as yours could avoid it." 

The man growled, but soon his laughter returned. "Oh, I like you, stranger. Though you would do best to--"

In a flash, Ornstein was now upon him, lifting him into the air. "Your vile tongue sickens me. The lady has requested your silence. If it were up to me, it would be permanent.", he dropped him to the ground. 

The man grumbled angrily before departing. 

If there was one thing that slimy man was right about, it was her tongue, for surely it was made out of a sharp silver, like her hair. A comment for everything, is what she had. He would love to silence her irritating voice sometimes, perhaps by taking her tongue, or casting a curse upon her, or perhaps he should do what that man had suggested and---

He closed his eyes, cursing himself inwardly. Had he lost his way? He was not acting very knightly. But the thought was tempting. Shaking his head, he forced the thought from his brain. Well, partly.

\-------------------

Upon entering the township, Ornstein swiftly and silently placed his fixed chest plate upon his body and watched as Eira dressed herself in her silver knight armour. "Far more time than is necessary has been wasted. Lets go.", retrieving her belongings and packing any unwanted equipment into her inventory, Eira placed the sword upon her back with a grass crest shield following closely. 

As they descended the steps, not much was to be made of the place. Of course, the entire township had been swallowed into the darkness below. The further they walked, the more they descended. Happening upon 4 bloated heads, Eira swiftly took down two, while Ornstein grimaced at killing the other two.

"There is a lift here", Eira stepped cautiously onto it. Nothing happened. "It will not activate. The switch for it must be far below." Continuing forward, the steps became increasingly narrow now, below them lie pure darkness. 

"This place is ominous, don't you think?", Eira wondered aloud. It was truly awful to know that Oolacile was no more, in her time at least. Time was convoluted, she knew that much. If anything, even Ornstein may not be from her time, maybe he was from an alternate universe where events were far different.

"Lost in thought? Do watch your step upon the bridge.", the voice of the knight sounded behind her. Blinking, the flimsy, wooden bridge ahead appeared to be completely unsafe. 

Eira smiled and pointed. "A treasure chest! Surely a scroll or armour piece is hidden within it?", she spoke excitedly and jogged towards it. 

Ornstein sighed. "Tis but a mimic, though it's chain appears to be hidden. For the flames sake, do not open it."

Eira contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a Lloyds Talisman and throwing it at the predatory chest. A faint humming sound was heard, and the chest slowly opened, light snoring emitting from within it. "There we are! Now, let's see what we have here.", Eira reached into its mouth.

Ornstein was fairly on edge at her doing such a reckless thing, but apparently, the mimic was truly sedated. Standing back, he watched Eira frown down at the item in her hand, a wooden sphere of sorts. 

"This appears to be..A consumable item?", Eira questioned cautiously, smoothing over the oddly jovial face upon it. "Someone has carved this, and brilliantly, may I add."

Sighing, she tossed it behind her. "It would not help me on my travels.". As she began to walk away, a deep voice resonated within the area.

She turned. "What's very good, Ornstein?". The knight shrugged, "twas not me that spoke."

Suddenly, the wooden carving appeared in her hand once more, and she threw it experimentally. "Very good", a deep voice spoke. Eiras eyes widened, and she threw 3 more.

"Very good very good very good"

She began to giggle loudly and tossed another. "This is wonderful!". Ornstein folded his arms as the wooden carving fell at his feet. "Remind me, how old are you?"

Eira rolled her eyes and tossed one directly at his armour plate. "About 2000 years old. Sorry, old man."

Ornstein sighed. "Far older than you, yes, but I'm not an old man.". 

Eira paused for a moment, gaping. "Wait. If I was born a little over 2000 years ago just before the fire faded, how long have you been around?" 

He glanced out the view before them, arms folded. "I bared witness to the dawn of the age of fire, approximately 200 years after. Therefore, I am at least 8000 years old." 

"And you have not aged? What is your physical age?"

Ornstein brought a hand to his chin. "No, I do not age. Upon gaining a piece of the Lord soul, it forever kept me youthful. Well, not youthful, but compared to my real age I suppose it is. I believe I am 30 in physical years, for the Lord Gwyn deemed it to be a point of physical peakness."

Eira blinked, head tilted. She lightly traced the carving in her hand. "30? Even physically you're older than me. So, correct me if im wrong, but when i was a mere baby, you were, what, 6000 years old or something along the lines?" 

He nodded. "Indeed, though back then I was physically 20. I'm not sure how it works, but it seems as though the part of my soul prevents aging beyond a point, and as you may know, my kind age very slowly, we do not grow older from a mere year."

Eira rubbed the back of her head absentmindedly, gazing up at the cliffs surrounding them. "You really are old, then. Though now that I think about it, I haven't aged either. Perhaps it is because of the curse? Or, the powerful Lord souls I have collected surely must have an effect on my own soul. Either way, I'm happy, for I do not want to look grey and haggard anyhow." 

Ornstein cocked a brow, and pointed at her. "You are halfway there, your hair is silver."

Eira gripped her locks and huffed. "That does not mean grey. I was naturally blonde, and I dabbled in dark sorceries for a while. I do not touch them now, but oddly enough, it forever bleached my hair silver."

She heard him grunt with little amusement. "Dark arts are forbidden." 

Eira rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. It was a long time ago, when I was far more youthful. Well, I still am, I suppose. I am only 24 in physical years." 

Ornstein raised a brow. "You are a mere child to me, mentally and physically.", he snorted. 

"And yet, I have truly lived, Dragonslayer. I have experienced, travelled, set goals for myself. You are highly prestiged, I admit.", she gazed upon him then, shaking her head. "But have you ever known a life outside of your duties?" 

It knocked the words straight out of him. All this time, all his life, it had been spent within Anor Londo. Had he ever travelled other than now? He hasn't even seen the world for a thousand years until last year. 

She seemed to notice his harsh realisation. "Forgive me, but i..cannot imagine such a life. Do you not fear living forever, only to achieve nothing?" She tilted her head, confusion in her depths.

He clenched his fists. She was right, but that didn't make it sting any less. "Let's continue."

\---------------------

Killing the many bloated heads and sorcerers, the two knights crossed a narrow, uneven bridge, leading to a darkened, broken down house. "The light is vanishing. Be careful, Ornstein."

The golden knight merely nodded. He would not allow himself to be tainted, he simply couldn't. Artorias had done so much, he would not die the same fate and let his friends efforts amount to nothing. 

The area was a mess. What was once a large, beautiful house was now a decaying mess of rubble and debris, abominations of the dark seeking refuge within its walls. Up ahead, stone steps descended into an open area, a group of bloated heads awaiting to flank them.

Reeling a hand back, the golden knight threw a menacing lightning spear directly at the pack. It injured them, but the majority of his attack had deflected. "It.. did nothing? How can that be?", Ornstein spoke in disbelief. He possessed one of the most powerful forms of lightning and yet..

"Do not waste your miracles in a place such as this. They are immune, you are the prey. Let me handle them.", she smiled reassuringly, though it was small. 

One moment she was cold, heartless and detesting his existence, then the next she was kind, reassuring, soft. He did not understand it fully, it plagued him. Though, there was one fact that he was sure of - she was hurting. Her eyes were dull, the smile never reaching her eyes. It..pained him. 

She had not angrily accused him of his crimes all those years ago, she had not wept about it, she simply said nothing. She bottled it up, and now and again, her bitterness would seep out of its bottle, only to retreat once more. For how long will she play those games? 

Her drive, her dedication - it had been failing. Not once did she mention her research, or how she had wanted to gather information for her book. Not once did she mention her passion for the sunlight warriors, or the fact that one day she will find her Lord.

In fact, such words hardly crossed her lips. At this rate, an undead with nary a goal will..

Hollow.

Eira stormed ahead, Uchigatana raised as she dodged and weaved around the bloated abominations. After a few minutes, the floor was littered with those things. "There's two doors", she pointed, "I'll take the right one that leads to stairs, you take the left.", she hurried off.

Stepping above the blood and pus upon the ground, Ornstein made his way outside. He happened upon a roof. There were no enemies in sight, though he decided to retrieve two humanities for Eira. 

Eira slowly ascended the wooden, creaky stairs. She appeared to be in a house, with very little around the room. The walls were black with mold, floor painted with blue sludge. Cautiously, she entered the next room, which held 2 beds. Her blue eyes trailed across the area, landing upon various broken vases and decaying belongings. 

Her eyes stopped. Upon the floor, scattered books lay beside a small bed. Small hands picked one up, blowing the dust off of its cover. She opened it, a soft smile gracing her cheeks. It was a childs book of tales and stories, speaking of dragons and knights. She was in the past of course, so the stories must be based off true events concerning the war with dragons.

Sitting against the wall, she put her weapon upon the ground and read silently. The pictures in the book portrayed an animated version of Gwyn, and how his light protects all. A figure with messy, white hair stood beside him, large spear, almost identical to Ornsteins, pointed towards a dragon. Her eyes widened. Could it be..? 

The nameless king? She became acutely aware of thudding footsteps entering the room, but did not look upon the person. "I've found something. Something valuable.", she spoke so gently, as though the image may disappear.

Ornstein crouched down in front of her, peering at the book in her hands. She pointed shakily, for she was overwhelmed at such a discovery. "This is a child's book of tales, a very ancient book from the past. There stands Gwyn, there stands you", she pointed, "And there stands...someone else." Her fingers traced the image.

Ornstein calculating eyes gazed upon the image of a man with pale white hair, adorning a crown and similar robes to his father. He forgot to breathe. His Lord.. He hasn't seen him in millennia. He couldn't think. How did this book exist? The Firstborn had surely been wiped from the annals of history and yet, as though a mockery to Gwyn, here hes found in a child's book.

"I..i am at a loss for words." He whispered, eyes wide. Eira glanced at him curiously. "You surely knew him, didn't you? I..avoided asking, but i knew you had your secrets about the matter. I feared if I had asked, I would have became obsessed".

Ornstein nodded slowly. "I knew him well. I..was his first knight, and his mentor. I was his friend." He admitted quietly, his mind whirling with memories. 

Eiras eyes glistened with unshed tears. No, she was not sad, she was in awe. "You..you were close to my Lord? My memory fails, I do not remember his face, but i know of his actions very well. Wait, you even trained him? The god of war?" 

Ornstein nodded, a small smile behind his helmet. "I did. He even took after me, and adorned the spear as his favoured weapon. Truly, he was my best friend. When he left, it...", he trailed off, for she knew the destruction it caused. She was there. She was the one who revolted. 

The knight sat beside her now, voice as civil as an older man retelling fond memories. "He was a good man. Tempered and headstrong, yes, but good nonetheless. He did not get along with Lord Gwyn, ever since he was a boy. I met him at 13, when I first became accepted into Gwyns care"

Eira smiled fondly, book closing as she listened intently. "And what was he like? Were you friends back then too?"

Ornstein nodded. "Indeed. He was a troublemaker of sorts, urging me to sneak out with him, or to truent a lesson. We did a few times, though our punishment was severe." He chuckled, gazing sideways at her. "The scholars made us crawl the splinter infested classroom floor upon our knees for hours, until they were bright red and bulging. Truly, it does not sound like much, but it is a pain I remember well."

Eira giggled, leaning back against the wall as she pictured a little Ornstein doing such a thing. He smiled in return, her eager expressions making him pleased. "Yes, he was unique indeed. Still, do not take my words too seriously, for I do not know if we will ever find him. I'm aware that some undead can become obsessed, much like..", he trailed off uncomfortably.

Eira sighed, her gaze casting to the side. "Much like Solaire? Yes, I know. I won't allow myself to become like that, which is why my goals shift from finding my Lord to writing books about history. I suppose it helps me to remain sane." At this point, the small woman stood, tucking the book into her pocket. 

"We better get going. I..I think that would be for the best", she stuttered, unsure, though just as quickly, she was gone. 

Time to face the abyss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am so excited to continue omg


	12. Hollow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being guided through the abyss by prism stones was a risky situation. When their light ran out, how would they fare? Alone. 
> 
> Ripped from one another with abyssal illusions all around them, it is important to survive amongst the monsters. But are they really the monsters? The abyss has its ways of corrupting the mind and forcing one to believe that their actions are good, when in fact they are utterly devastating.
> 
> Soon, the dark truth spills out, a truth they have both avoided since the beginning. The consequences will surely be severe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited for now, but a dark chapter nonetheless. Pls enjoy! Warnings for violence, depression, hollowing

Light escaped their vision the further they descended, now replaced with grimy, blue floors and blackened walls. "Look, that's the lift! It's obviously a shortcut to the bonfire.", Eira stood on it to activate it. "Lets continue, at least we know there's quick access to safety".

Ornstein merely nodded. Yes, that was a comforting thought. Making quick work of the bloated heads, the two knights were led to an elongated room, with a figure standing at the far end. Upon approaching, it appeared to be some form of monster with a ball and chain around its person. 

"It would've pained me to see humans convert into such hideous monsters", Eira grimaced as she plunged her Uchigatana through its head. Ornstein nodded solemnly. "Yes, a terrible sight, indeed."

Eira blinked. "Another bonfire? We're in luck. Its right beside the abyss, too. Look how dark that cave is", she pointed. All light had vanished in the cave, or, rather, chasm. Prism stones were the only comforting light emitted from the blackened chasm, and Eira followed them closely. "Perhaps your friend Artorias dropped these for himself?" 

"Yes, most likely. It will allow us to traverse unharmed, hopefully."

They appeared to be walking along a steep, cliff path. The brightly coloured stones guided them safely, though Eira managed to stumble along the way. Directly ahead, multiple, illuminated red orbs shone.

"Brilliant, Artorias must've dropped a lot of prism stones to signal that there's something over there!", Eira spoke cheerfully, readying to run ahead. Upon doing so, she gasped as a large hand gripped her and yanked her back roughly, causing her back to slam into the knights chest. "Must you be so rough?"

"My apologies", he spoke with disinterest. "But if you look closely, it is not a prism stone. The red orbs are blinking."

Her back was still against his chest, his chin far above her head. She felt small, enclosed by his figure, but merely nodded. " How disturbing. There's a path down that way, we may be able to avoid them."

She felt him nod in return, his grip loosening on her arm. "Yes, avoiding abyssal creatures would be for the better. Come,", he shifted around her, "I'll guide.", he stood forward and descended the treacherous path. 

Ornstein felt the walls ahead of him, grimacing at the blue and black slime of the abyss. At this point, any enemy in their path had been killed, and Eira jogged ahead slightly. Ornstein inspected ahead of him, seeing nothing but blackness. Suddenly, whilst walking the even narrower cliffs edge, the prism stones stopped. "Eira?"

Walking forward, the knight reached out hesitantly, the hand on his spear tightening. He could see a sillhouette, but was it hers? It was a woman, so it must be.

"Eira, do not run ahead. We have no chance if we split up. This abyss - its cancerous when faced alone", he spoke sternly, gripping her shoulder. She turned. But it wasn't her. A monster in the skin of Eira snapped it's head at him, eyes bulging and bleeding with a grin carved up its mouth. "I will die, just as Artorias died.", the distorted voice of Eira spoke, a sickly sweetness in their voice. 

Ornstein shuddered, walking backwards slowly. No, the abyss was playing tricks on him, attempting to corrupt his soul. He would not allow it! With a cry, he plunged his spear into the monster, which screeched and vanished. "Eira!? Where are you?!" He shouted with urgency, rushing ahead. In this blackness, he was utterly vulnerable.

Said woman was walking casually along the cliffs edge, stopping as she heard a soft voice. She rolled her eyes. "Ornstein, now is not the time for tricks.", she drawled with a smile on her lips, walking towards the sound. Suddenly, a spear was pointed at her. "Eira, this man is a liar. Come to us, relinquish control to the father of the abyss", whispered hushed voices as Ornstein pointed a spear to her neck.

She backed away frantically, barely catching herself as she tripped on a few stray rocks, and ran. This was not Ornstein, it couldn't be. She had to find him!

Ornstein was cautious now, lighting a path with his lightening. There was nothing in sight other than blackness beyond the light of his magic. Hoarse, incoherent whispers resonated around him, and he shivered unpleasantly. Silhouettes of Eira kept appearing in his peripheral vision, causing him to reach out only to be faced with a monster. The Dragonslayer didn't often feel fear or genuine endangerment, but he did here.

"Back, away with you!", he swung his spear fiercely, the monster vanishing into dust. He began a fast paced walk now, unsure of where he was. Two beings suddenly jumped onto his back, feminine hands clawing into his armour with surprising force. With a crack, he sent the two flying with his elbow, watching them sprawl to the floor in a heap of tears. "Ornstein, why are you hurting me?", whimpered a mimic of Eira.

Ornstein hesitated, but soon his eyes narrowed. This was not her, he would do well to remind himself of that. Disposing of the mimics, he continued. A group of 5 appeared before him, bruised and wailing. "Ornstein, why did you kill friends? My family?", weeped a mimic. It appeared the abyss could tap into his and Eiras memories, morphing them cruelly.

He shivered. He felt true fear in this place. Shoulder barging through the group, his breathing became heavy with panic as he now sprinted ahead mindlessly. His soul screamed to get out, get out, get out--

His imposing form slammed into another woman, the force sending her crashing harshly into the floor on her side. This time, he was prepared. Allowing the momentum of his run to carry him, he fell with the woman, landing on top of her swiftly and holding her wrists down with such bruising force, he heard a crunch and a strangled cry. "Vile, abyssal miscreation!" He spat angrily, "Face me, Manus!", he growled into the mimics face.

The mimic began to wriggle frantically, but to no avail. It was crying now, but he did not care for its words, he was far too angry. A pulsating hum within his head overrun his senses, a wrath like no other settling at the forefront of all emotions. It felt like the raging storm within him seemed to grow, clouding his mind.

The monster squirmed in his grasp even more, attempting to kick him or knee him, its hands clawing and trying to fight its way from under him. It thrashed violently, reaching for its sword that lay a mere few inches away. 

Growling, he squeezed it's wrists and forearms with such inhuman force, he became sickly satisfied at the ear splitting cry of pain it released at having its bones crunch. 

He was angry, so angry, he was blinded by it. Sinister whispers surrounded him, encouraging him. Eyes clouded, he forced a large hand around its neck and squeezed, forcing the side of its face into the rough ground with a satisfied crack. "You will answer me, Manus! Answer me!". 

Electricity flowed around him with rage, his hands producing the magic and shocking the mimic beneath him painfully, but not enough to kill. It writhed violently, screaming and thrashing maddeningly. He briefly remembered similar situations when interrogating prisoners.

Despite its violent struggles, it resulted in hurting itself even more - It could not move an inch, he was far too strong, imbued with Godlike strength. 

His mind began to whirl deeper into pure vehemence. Did this mimic trick Artorias too?! He growled at the sick thought of his friends lack of help, and lifted his spear high above his head with one hand. If one could witness his eyes, they would see a swirling tempest of black attempting to overcome his emerald depths - usually so wise and poised.

"Ornstein!", something far away screamed hoarsely.

"Eira!?", he shouted in return. He had better hold this mimic down and allow her to follow his--

"Ornstein, stop it, stop it!", the scream became desperate, but closer. Had a mimic of himself caught her too? 

She was wailing desperately, her voice coming closer, louder, until it was so loud that he had to refocus on his sense of hearing in the echoing chasm. Anger vanishing, the haze in his mind settled and he blinked. 

The figure beneath him was not a mimic. 

He froze. His mind, his body, his soul - frozen.

Beneath him was Eira, the real Eira, releasing blood curdling screams as his hands crunched the bones in her wrists and arms, the armour of his knees splitting the skin of her small thighs, crimson dripping down her legs. His eyes were wide. 

He scrambled off of her, falling onto his back. He.. what was he doing to her? Why was he hurting her!? But just now--wasnt that a mimic? 

He realised she had been dragging herself along the floor to escape him, whimpering and groaning in pain. He gripped her ankle in panic, his mind could not allow her to believe that he did it on purpose. He..He didn't do it on purpose! She shrieked at feeling his grip around her ankle and flung herself onto him with surprising strength.

She was atop him now, sitting on his armoured chest. In her hands, she attempted to ready a devastating pyromancy spell, but he could not allow her to do that. Gripping her firmly, he shoved her onto the ground and held her down by the shoulders. "Eira, it is me! I'm not a mimic, it's me!"

She began to shriek once more, thrashing violently. Shocking her with his magic had undoubtedly caused her mind to panic even more and be flooded with adrenaline.

He let her go instantly, standing back. For a moment she stood there, and relief flooded his body. Until she pulled her sword out. He watched the pitiful scene unfold, her hands were broken, wrists shattered as bone protruded from her skin, blood streaming down her hands.

He took a step forward, slowly. "I can heal you, just--", he lifted his spear to brighten their surroundings, her face partially visible.

She was crying, hardly. With a shake of her head, she turned and ran. "Eira, no!", Ornstein reached out, but she was gone.

He had to find her. He couldn't allow himself to sink further into whatever monstrosity had clouded his mind earlier. 

He had to find her.

\--------------

It took an hour to find her. He scoured the area high and low, lost amongst the maze of the dark. He was relieved to find a curled up form by the bonfire in the small cave at last, but a part of his heart broke at the scene.

She was hunched in on herself beside the bonfire, face red and tear streaked as she waited for the bones in her hands to heal by the flames. Her eyes were bloodshot, she was so..broken.

Upon noticing his hulking form, she stood shakily, sword held up towards him. She did not expect him to drop to one knee. "Eira, I did not mean to hurt you, I swear it. I swear upon all the gods, I swear upon your Lord, that I did not mean it.", his hand was held to his chest as he braced himself on one knee. Her lips were quivering, her weapon lowering slowly. "I believed you to be a monster. The abyss...It tainted my mind. I was weak, I was a fool for letting my guard down and now i..", he trailed off, struggling for words as he saw fresh tears cascade down her cheeks. "And now I've hurt you, I've.. maimed you. I've gone against all honour of protecting you.", he hung his head in shame, eyes wet beneath his helmet. 

He rose to his feet slowly, wincing as he saw her reflexively back away against the wall. "Let me help you.", he spoke softly, extending a hand towards her. Her face held conflict, anger in her stance but sadness in her eyes. She gripped her sword tightly, and ran at him with utter pain fueled rage. 

He stood there. He did not move. Slowly, he dropped to his knees once more. "Whatever punishment you deem worthy, I will..submit." He spoke hoarsely, eyes squeezed shut with shame. He was a knight. To hurt the one he swore to protect is sinful. More than sinful. 

Nothing happened. Opening his eyes, her hateful gaze stared down at him. Her hands were on his helmet, and she paused, as though waiting for him to remove her touch. He did not. Roughly, her hands forced his helmet from his head. It clattered to the ground with a faint echo, and all was silent. 

His gaze was trained on the floor. The glint of her weapon met his gaze and he swallowed. His cool, but considerably softer eyes met her eyes. Eiras breath hitched.

Deep, green eyes stared back at her, red, long locks tied into a high knot as strands fell down to frame his face. His face was strong - a squared jaw, pointed nose and high cheekbones, eyebrows set in a perpetually neutral state. 

Her eyes shone with abhorrence for him, teeth gritted. She pulled a dagger from her pocket, a very familiar dagger, he thought. A million memories flashed in her eyes. She thought of the many people who died in Anor Londo, her friend sigrid who was hit with lightning, that bastard captain who swore to kill her one day. 

Her gaze landed on the scar across his cheek, and the faded, but very apparent scar trailing from his upper neck to below his armour. As though mauled by an animal. 

She thought of the knights who beat the townsfolk, mothers and fathers weeping. She thought of that assassin, Ciaran, who helped her escape, and how Artorias would secretly give food and money to the people at night. She tilted her head, eyes squeezed shut as tears flooded her cheeks. 

She thought of how the people despised the knights and the gods for their lack of care. They let her people starve, let them die. And the captain, the culprit of it all, was kneeled before her, neck bared. 

She raised her dagger steadily with trained hands, gliding the blade gently across the scar upon his neck. He did not flinch. His eyes gazed at her unwaveringly, green orbs smouldering into her own. Her hate filled eyes watched the blade glide up his neck and to the scar on his cheek, the scar she gave him all those years ago. She could kill him right now, avenge her people, avenge the humans.

She squeezed her eyes shut, tears falling freely down her face now. 

She thought of her baby boy, his chubby cheeks, his little smiles and giggles. She thought of his dark hair and mischievous personality, all reduced to a skeletal figure in his cot, wailing weakly until the day he died of malnutrition.

She cracked. The wall within her broke, the dam unleashing a multitude of emotions that she fought hard to supress. She crumbled. The woman collapsed to her knees in front of him. He took so much from her, he had hurt her over and over without her ever knowing it. Now he had tipped her to a breaking point. 

His eyes briefly widened at her slamming the knife at the ground with vicious ferocity, her hands gripping his face roughly. He did not move. He watched her blue eyes gaze over his every feature with interest and hatred all at once, blue eyes glistening in the darkness, red rimmed and puffy.

A bittersweet, ghostly smile met her lips. Her eyes were hollow. "You took everything from me", she whispered, nails digging into his jaw. "You caused so much destruction, so much pain", she was shaking now, her voice so quiet. 

She was close to him now, their noses almost touching. Her finger roughly grazed the scar on his cheek. "You're the captain, aren't you? It's you. It's always been you. The one I hid from, ran from, despised for so long.", her whispering became a hiss, teeth clenched and bared. He nodded. 

Such a simple notion sent her mind whirling with barely contained rage and hatred. " The knights were acting under your orders?", it was rhetorical, for she knew the answer. It only riled her further. Icy eyes stared into his soul, and he physically flinched at her next words, but his face remained ever passive.

"You killed my baby.", nails dug harshly into his face, "You killed my boy.", she reiterated, shaking violently as tears burned her cheeks. He closed his eyes briefly, swallowing the lump in his throat. His face betrayed no emotion. He understood what she meant.

"Why?", she whimpered, the painful grip on his face loosening as her small shoulders shook with pained sobs. " He was the only thing I had left", she whispered barely coherently through her sobbing. 

His eyes began to glisten. 

She had her head in her hands, lips quivering as she fought the second wave of tears. "I see that scar in my dreams every night. I hear your voice tormenting me. You took everything. You abandoned us." She rasped, body falling limply against his own. He was stiff. Her head rested against his shoulder, and she sobbed violently. 

A gentle, very cautious hand rested on her back. It served to increase her crying tenfold. She could barely speak, barely breathe, as she gripped onto the man who had destroyed her only chance of peace, only chance of a family, and yet she sought his comfort?

Her own mind conflicted her, battled within her. It tore her apart, and she crumbled, weakly leaning against him fully now, head nestled into his neck, burning hatred in her eyes as she stared at his scar. 

Her wrists pulsated painfully, the bones barely healed. She shuddered a breath, her own sanity failing her. "I hate you.", she breathed, "I despise your existence, you monster". And, At that moment, she truly did.

He closed his eyes. A painful, deep tug pulled within his chest. It tore him. It wasn't something he hadn't already heard multiple times before, but it was different this time.

She gripped his shoulders harshly, head now against his chest as she hunched in on herself. " But at the same time, no matter how hard I try, how much i want to, I cannot deny a foreign feeling for you. It hurts, I feel so treacherous.", she spat at herself, crying woefully. 

"How can I be so fond of the man who allowed my people to starve to death, who was the prime cause of my child's demise? How can I...", she shook, "how can I be so weak? I've failed them all." She whispered, teeth bared and spittle releasing from her mouth as she cried harshly. 

He heard her grip the dagger. In a flash, it was pointed at his throat. "You are a monster!", she roared angrily, screaming into his face. " You claim to be a legend, a mighty slayer of dragons, and yet you could not slay me!?", she spat into his face, spittle hitting his face. 

The tip pierced his skin menacingly. "Why did i survive?! How could you fail to kill a mere human woman, you bastard!", she was screaming into his face by now, but he did not flinch, did not react, merely stared into her eyes. 

Her hand moved to grip the back of his head. "Why? Why did i survive? I..I don't want to do this anymore. I'm alone, so alone..", her voice had reduced to nothing now, cracking pathetically. The abyss was feeding off of her melancholy.

A hand gently rubbed her back, so gentle it was almost non existent. She pushed the tip of the blade into his neck, relishing in his grunt. And yet, she could not do it. Could not kill him. She rose to her feet frantically, gripping her hair now. "Is this what it feels like to hollow?", she laughed coldly at herself. 

She stared at him with pure rage now, gripping her hair roughly as she screamed with unconstrained, conflicting emotions. Her back was to him now as her forehead rested against the wall, her sobs reduced to silence, oxygen barely reaching her lungs. 

With a scream of pure agony, she spun on her heel and threw the dagger at him at blinding speeds. It expertly sliced through his cheek and part of his ear, lodging into the wall beside his head. Memories of a time gone by flooded his brain, a bittersweet irony entering his veins. 

Instantly, she collapsed into a heap upon the floor, curling in on herself. Gentle hands gripped her waist, pulling her to her feet. She was too defeated and dead inside to stop him. He led her to a corner of the cave, sitting himself against the wall. She tumbled into him instinctively, her side against his own as his large arm encircled her shoulders, her head resting against his shoulder. 

She wept sorrowfully against the man who had stolen so much from her, and had saved her on countless occasions. The man who had made her life hell, at one point in time, and now helps her along her journey. 

She did not care for dignity or hatred, only comfort. She was empty, a husk of her former self. Her eyes began to hollow and grow hazy as the faint feeling of him gripping her hand with his own registered in her brain. 

A trickle of liquid hit her forehead, and she gasped. Without thinking, she moved so close she was upon his lap, legs straddling his own as his back lay against the wall. Blue eyes met green in a heated gaze, neither willing to look away. Her hands gripped his face, gently this time, as her thumb swiped at the sheet of blood cascading from the clean cut wound she had caused. 

Her eyes were sparkling now, in something other than hatred. She felt his cheeks, his nose, his jaw. His head tilted slightly as he gazed up at her, his own eyes alight with foreign emotions. 

This was Ornstein. The one she knew, the one who protected her. Her hand gripped his jaw. "I am full of conflict. Who are you?", she whispered softly, eyes landing on his lips as he spoke. 

"Whoever you perceive me to be", he whispered in return, smouldering gaze freezing her to the spot. She leaned in, barely ghosting his lips with her own. "Im hurt. So hurt and angry", she murmured, lips quivering as tears spilled down her cheeks.

A large, calloused hands reached up to wipe her tears, and she flinched. His eyes became soft, pained, at her flinch. She thought he was going to hurt her, like earlier. "I do not expect you to trust me, like me, or respect me. In fact, you can hate me forever if you so wish", he murmured gently, soothing her. 

"But I will not give up on you. I am your knight, it is my duty to protect you." 

Her eyes widened. She was still so angry, so full of hatred and vehemence, but..

She cared for him. And he understood. He understood her resentment and faced it head on. He did not flinch when she held a blade to his neck, did not fight back or hurt her. 

Carefully, she climbed off of him and settled beside him once more, head resting against his chest as his arm curled around her form. "You confuse me, Dragonslayer. I do not know if I wish to slit your throat or hug you". She scoffed at herself, a twitch of a smile upon her quivering lips. 

He merely tightened his grip around her, eyes relatively blank, a hint of sadness in the depths. He felt truly empty, like a part of him deep down was ripped out. Glancing down at her, he grimaced at the sight of her face - black bruises littered her cheeks, blood dripping down her forehead. Her hands were gripping his hand, disfigured and not yet adjusted at the bonfire.

As though on cue, the small woman moved from his arms, and sat at a distance next to the bonfire. The fire illuminated her pale face, her eyes glowing fiercely. "Don't mistake my bouts of weakness for friendship, Dragonslayer. I hug you because to me you are almost an entirely different being with your helmet on. I do not know the person beneath it, and therefore i have conflicting memories."

Her words were cold, eyes dull aside from the flames of the bonfire which reflected in them. "I seek comfort, admittedly, but i...I don't know what to think of you.", she gripped her hair gently, releasing a shaky breath. "Regardless, the situation is trivial compared to what needs to be done. The dark corrupted you, Ornstein, and you lashed out at me rather viciously", she held her wrists as a reminder and he winced. 

Her eyes steeled themselves, wall clearly rebuilt. "Survival of our sanity is important now, more than ever.", she peered through her inventory and gripped a rope. "So, we'll both hold the rope to ensure we do not split up again".

Ornstein blinked. The crying, broken woman had vanished. Her vehemence and disgust now ceased to exist. He was cautious, but he had to agree with her. Survival was important. He shook his head, emerald eyes piercing into hers. "No, a rope is not secure enough. We will simply have to grip onto each other.", he spoke firmly, the situation clearly determined. 

Confliction was evident in her expression, as though a part of her felt safe at the thought of holding him while the other loathed to hold him. She nodded. "Fine, if it will ensure our safety, then so be it. The abyss must be stopped."

"Yes, we'll leave as soon as possible", he nodded affirmitively, then hesitated, green eyes flashing with shame. "As soon as you're fully healed", he mumbled the last part, eyes cast downward. 

After about an hour, her bones had healed fully, and she stood. "Come on, then. Let's get this shit over with. Im not in the fucking mood for the stupid abyss", she grumbled. Ornstein couldn't help but release a hearty laugh at her language, and extended a hand to her. "Well said. Take my hand, we'll guide each other." 

His helmet had returned to its natural place, but Eira could not forget the look of his face. He was..unique. She shook her head. Not the time to think about that. Cautiously, she gripped his much larger hand. "Right, step one is done at least. You better change your title for step two, because you're required to be an Abysswalker." 

Ornstein rolled his eyes. "Then I palm my duties of Dragonslayer onto you. If we happen to run into Kalameet, I'm sure i can rely on Dragonslayer Eira." 

Eira raised her brows. "Me? Against a dragon? Oh, you have not had that luxury yet, Dragonslayer." 

"How so? Are you particularly skilled?", he appeared genuinely interested.

She snorted. "I'm the far end of that spectrum - I run like a madwoman and hope to live.", she heard him scoff at that. 

Her grip tightened around his hand as they stepped into the black chasm. 

"Let's find this fucker and end him permanently."


	13. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Personal issues aside, the two ventured through the final depths of the abyss. With two opposites working as a whole - light and dark - eira believes the balance will allow them to overpower the cancer that is Manus.
> 
> But this isn't any mere fight. Illusions are very much real in this chasm, and Eira begins to falter as a shard from her memory morphs in front of her.
> 
> But Eira wasn't a former assassin for nothing. And now, in this moment, ruthlessness was needed, no matter how painful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We meet manus! He's a bastard just saying. Enjoy!

The familiar colours of the prism stones guided their way once again, the endless abyss surrounding them whole. They safely navigated their way past the many lurking monsters in the distance, a brilliant start compared to last time, and were now descending a narrow path. 

Due to how slim the walkway was, they could not walk side by side. Eira guided them both, hand holding Ornsteins. They had easily came to the agreement that Ornstein was far too rough when pulling her, so she'd be in charge of leading the way instead. 

His lightning easily lit the area within close proximity of them, and he could easily see her small form trudging ahead, her silver hair shining brightly. They came to a cliff now, the woman ahead of him stopping abruptly. "Something wrong?"

Eira pointed. "There's.. things, down there. In the shape of humanity sprites.", Eiras voice held curiosity. The beings appeared to be passive, but she didn't want to approach them. Ornstein nodded. "It appears so. They do say that humans are the true harbourers of darkness. Perhaps this pygmy Lord is the purest form of human, able to create such beings."

"A pygmy Lord? I've never heard of that before. I thought only 4 souls had risen during the age of ancients?" 

"True, but fire reached another being, one uncared for, one who remained a mystery. I'd bet that this being is Manus.", Ornstein concluded with finality, he was fairly certain of this. 

"That odd fellow, Chester..He spoke of Oolacile bringing it's own destruction upon itself by listening to an evil serpent, and awakening a beast. Dusk also stated that the beast appeared to have feelings. I'm not sure if any of this harbours truth, but when i see him, I'm sure I'll be able to tell if he is truly human, truly my ancestor."

They continued ahead, descending the steep path and taking care to avoid the large sprites. "Yes, you will most likely be able to feel something when we confront him.", he paused for a moment, "Do you believe the serpents?", he was cautious with such a question, for he knew that linking the fire was merely a sacrifice to any undead who was fit enough to do the job, not necessarily 'chosen'. 

She appeared to deliberate, words lost in her throat. "I--and, excuse me for this, but...I do not agree with Frampt. Of course, by not agreeing, I am promptly ending every God's life, and banishing your powers."

"Yes, that would indeed happen. If it were up to you, would you allow the world to be blackened by darkness?" 

Eira shook her head, a frown on her face. "I..I don't want darkness. I don't like the thought of it. But, after much studying, particularly in pyromancy, there is much i have learnt. Have you noticed, that many pyromancers cover their eyes?" 

Ornstein nodded, now that he thought about it, yes, they did.

"It's because they see true fire, true life, beyond the darkness. Pyromancy is a very ancient, primal magic. Naturally, if I were to allow the world to darken, it would be unnatural just as the artificial fire of burning ones body is unnatural. But in time, embers will flicker beyond the darkness, creating true life. A life with natural light and darkness, a balance. To achieve this, we must first suffer the consequences of artificially functioning the flame.", she paused, " that is my belief."

Ornstein was at a loss for words. Never had a human spoke with such truth before. He remained quiet. She continued. "For all our lives, we are taught that darkness is evil, but this is wrong. If an imbalance of light is created, like when Gwyn sacrificed himself, then the natural reaction to that is an imbalance of dark - the abyss. It is simply how the world works, an action naturally results in a reaction. Such imbalances will forever cause chaos."

They descended the rest of the cliff edge, stopping at a small, hidden ledge. "Do you understand now? If we left the fire to fade, eventually with time, a naturally sustained fire would create spontaneously, and if I'm correct, the abyss would vanish. Truly, you God's have done nothing but cause your own demise.", she shook her head sadly, and nodded ahead of her. "Enough of that. I found something."

Ornstein was forced to follow her to the little ledge. "What's wrong? Do you believe it to be false?", Eira nodded, stomping over the ground. She yelped as the ground disappeared, her and Ornstein tumbling through it. 

His armour landed with a heavy clank onto the stone floor, followed by a small thud as Eira fell atop him. She groaned, bracing herself upon his chest, legs either side of his waist. "I'll count myself lucky that you didn't fall onto me". 

"Yes, that surely wouldve hurt. Luckily for me, you weigh nothing.", he nudged her hip gently, indicating for her to move. An unfamiliar feeling rose to her chest, her cheeks tinged red. She swiftly stood from his person, lending a hand to pull him up. He took it, for his hand was bound to hers anyway. To ensure their safety, of course.

"It appears we've found an alternate path, surely hidden for one reason or another. Come, let's make haste.", Ornstein allowed her to lead him eagerly, until she gasped. "Ornstein, I.. I can see something! It's entirely white, which is surely a good thing in such a dark place!", she jogged ahead, Ornstein in tow. 

The closer they got to the mysterious, white being, the more Ornstein began to feel his heart beating. It was the spirit of a cat, a cat he knew well. Artorias was incredibly close with the animal, who often allowed Sif to roam her forest with little disturbance.

"Alvina?", Ornsteins voice was hesitant and relieved. The spirit merely disappeared, opening a path beyond where she lay. "You know that spirit?", Eira questioned curiously. He ignored her, tugging her ahead now. "If Alvina is here then surely Sif is, too.", his voice appeared pained, as though he did not wish to see the beast.

A couple of sprites appeared to be cornering a small, white form, a shield above its little body. "Sif! You're alive!", Ornstein dropped Eiras hand and ran straight for the pup, dropping to his knees. This certainly explains where Artorias greatshield had gone - he had given it to Sif to protect her. 

Eira promptly disposed of the sprites and ran after him. "Is that a wolf?!"

The little pup looked up at Ornstein with a sense of familiarity, before howling sadly and disappearing altogether. The knight shut his eyes. "Of course. We are in the past, the real Sif of our time might be...", he trailed off.

Eira tilted her head. " Well, if its any consolation, I happened upon a wolf. A very, very big one. I saw no reason to hurt it, so i stole the ring and ran. You know, the covenant of Artorias?". Ornstein nodded, he remembered. She had used the ring to fight the 4 kings, and now he wore it. He had always wondered what had become of the wolf, and was relieved to know that Eira didn't kill her.

"Then she lives. I'm glad you did not hurt her.", his voice was relieved, gentle. Eira tilted her head. "Why? How is it that you know this strange pup?"

Ornstein rose to his feet again, gripping Eiras hand to continue their journey. "She's no mere wolf. She's Artorias' companion, Sif. Didn't you ever wonder why the ring she was guarding was called covenant of Artorias?", he deadpanned.

Eira blinked. "I..guess I didn't think of that. His companion was a wolf, and that strange cat was protecting her? He must love animals."

Ornstein chuckled. "Very much so. Also, you say that the wolf is large now?", he thought for a moment, "I wouldn't know. The last I saw of her, she was a mere pup. Anyhow, let us journey onwards. At least she is safe." 

Eira nodded. "Let's go. We better get back onto the path that lead to the sprites. Beyond them, I could see a steep decline with prism stones. That must be our next area."

The two continued in relative silence, pointing out the unstable ground and a few items along the way. For the most part, they avoided the large sprites, and reached the decline Eira had spoke of. It appeared to be a very large tomb toppled sideways and used as a bridge. Standing beside the steep decline, Eira stopped.

"The sprites come in all sizes. Do you think that the little ones are children?"

Ornstein sighed. "Perhaps. Or, it could be that their humanity is not as grand as the bigger sprites." 

Eira hummed, crouching down as a small sprite approached her slowly. "I wish I could acquire all this humanity.", she extended her hand very slowly, and touched the being. It felt like her life was being drained at an alarming rate, and she hissed and jumped back. "That hurts! And you look so cute, too. You are dangerous, little sprite.", she scolded softly. 

Ornstein gaped, rolling his eyes. "Eira, they are not babies to be coddled with. Let's be going.", he tugged her along the steep decline. Eira huffed. "You can't deny that their cute. But yes, you're right. I'm certain we're almost there."

Eventually, they were back on ground, with a path leading into a very narrow cave. A few sprites appeared along the way and were easily disposed of, until eventually they came to a large opening. "A fog wall!", Eira revealed happily, jumping down the small edge. Ornstein soon followed, gazing at the sheer size of the fog wall. 

"We've made it. Whatever beast lurks beyond this wall will surely be fierce.", Ornstein muttered, uncertainty gnawing at his stomach. He would soon be face to face with the beast that consumed his friend. What's to say the same couldn't happen to him? 

Ornstein blinked and gazed down at the feeling of a smaller hand squeezing his own. "Remember what i said about balance? Well, we are the balance - a mixture of light and dark beings. Working together, we will be able to slay this beast, for we have found balance." 

The knights emerald eyes widened. She was right. How very wise, indeed. He was the being of light, while she portrayed darkness. Surely the both of them could neutralise Manus? Where one failed, the other would help. He briefly squeezed her hand in return. "Wise words for a human, but i couldnt agree more. Yes, we will end him, and we will not allow Artorias death to be in vain."

Eira nodded. "Absolutely. Protect the light within your soul, Ornstein. Do not let him corrupt you. I'm ready when you are." 

They stepped forward.

\------------------

They did not expect to be peering over a sheer cliff, pure darkness below them. Eira hesitated. "Should we jump down? Manus must be---"

A black, monstrous hand suddenly latched itself around the smaller woman, squeezing her tightly. "Eira!", Ornstein reached out, but to no avail. The woman was dragged down into the depths of the chasm. Without a second of hesitation, he leaped down.

Eira was sat on the floor, getting up slowly as Ornstein appeared to her right. "Ornstein, I do not know where that hand went.", Eira whispered, gluing herself to his side. He pointed ahead of him. "He's toying with us." 

Within the blackness, multiple red eyes blinked at them. Suddenly, a hulking figure slinked out from the shadows, body appearing to have the limbs of a human, though elongated. He was entirely black, and upon further inspection, a small, wrath filled expression was visible from between his gigantic horns. He was like a horned demon, except far more abyssal. 

The figure bared itself onto its front limbs, breathing heavily as slime and saliva dribbled from his mouth menacingly. It began to circle them slowly, as though a primal instinct had taken over whatever that beast was. Eira flinched and gripped her chest. "Eira, what's wrong?"

She gasped. "I..I feel anger, sadness, longing, and..nostalgia. It's as though he's reaching into the deepest parts of me". 

"That's because i am", a distorted, monstrous voice boomed, despite the beasts mouth not moving. "Give it back. Give it back. Give it back!", a large fist suddenly crashed down upon them, causing the two knights to roll in opposite directions. 

"Give what back!?", Eira screamed back, running as he barreled his fists consistently upon the ground. 

"It's mine. Mine. I will swallow this world whole! Give it back!", the monster was screaming at this point, the floor around them shaking as his fists relentlessly pummeled the floor. 

It's vile gaze fell upon Ornstein, a darkness encompassing it's entire figure as it jumped into the air with frightening speed and chased after him. "I will end you, being of light. I will force the abyss upon your very soul, as I did to knight Artorias.", it mocked angrily, fist catching the side of Ornsteins armour. 

Eira gripped her Uchigatana tightly, infusing it with a blessed miracle, and ran at him. She managed to pivot around its legs as it furiously attempted to grab her. She dodged and dived under most attacks, her sword slicing into its flesh. 

Ornstein was behind it now, and he began aiming for the backs of its legs, emitting an ear splitting screech from it. Black and purple orbs began to surround them, and Eira gasped. " Ornstein, move, he is using dark magic!" 

The orbs suddenly smashed into the ground surrounding him, the blast sending Eira across the floor while a few orbs had hit Ornstein directly. He collapsed onto one knee, whispers forcing themselves into his brain. "Get out of my head, vile miscreation of man!" 

Eira lifted herself to her feet. The beast was onto her now, a monstrous sound emitting from its mouth, as though it were laughing. " We are alike, are we not? You come from me, young one, a descendant of the first pygmy.", it cackled madly, swiping its fists at her as she half heartedly dodged them, grunting at the pain in her side. 

"We are nothing alike! You are the embodiment of evil!", she spat, Uchigatana carving through the arm it had lunged at her. Manus screeched, the red eyes upon its horns brightening angrily. 

"The being of light is evil, young one. He has hurt you, hasnt he?", Eira growled at his words and shook her head. Ornsteins spear pierced through its chest roughly, but the monster merely swung his body around until the knight collapsed into a wall. 

It's gaze fell upon Eira once more. It stalked towards her on four legs, growling. "He was the cause for Sigfrids death. He allowed the city to perish. He allowed your son to die.", the voice felt like a whisper in her head, but on the outside it was loud. She gripped her head, it's words were echoing madly now, and she clenched her teeth.

"Our past is not your concern, beast. Now, die!", she bellowed, Uchigatana raised. She ran at the monster with all her might, unfazed by its towering form. A glimpse of gold to her right made her stop, however, as a black tendril had smashed Ornstein into the ground, holding him there. Eira swiveled and made a beeline for him instead, slicing through the abyssal tendrils and bringing Ornstein to his feet.

Ornstein was angry now, his breathing harsh as lightning surrounded him. He charged at the beast, stabbing him with his spear over and over. Eira followed suite, Uchigatana raised once more as she readied herself to slice across its face.

But she stopped. 

In front of her, small and defenceless, stood a child. A baby, to be more precise. He was stubby and cute, giggling and holding his hands out towards her. "Mama.", his sweet voice giggled. 

Eiras stomach dropped, her entire world halting. Ornstein, who was busy slicing the beast apart, glanced over. "Finish him!", he shouted, but stopped in his tracks. His mouth dried unpleasantly. He gazed at the baby upon the ground. It was.. an illusion. 

Manus managed to throw him off roughly, and Ornstein landed gracefully, running towards Eira at an erratic speed. The child stood on two, shaky legs, reaching out with a childish, innocent laugh. Eiras eyes softened. "Zathrian..?", she whispered, slowly walking towards him.

The baby appeared to pause for a moment, staring up at her with big, dark eyes. Suddenly, his face lit up. "Mama!", he cried gleefully, before his excitement caused him to topple over.

"Eira, don't go near it! It's an illusion!", screamed the Dragonslayer from across the chasm. She didn't appear to hear him. Eiras face contorted with pain and sadness, tears spilling over her cheeks. "My baby, my little Zathy..", she whispered shakily, staring onwards as the child reached out to her and started to cry.

She didn't move an inch, only watched in utter sorrow as the child cried. Ornstein watched cautiously, saw how her eyes contorted in sadness and happiness, depending on the child's choice of emotion. It was like...His pain, was her pain. His joy, was her joy. He inhaled a shaky breath. "Eira, please. It's not him."

But she didn't listen, only walked towards him, crouching down to his level. His little hands gripped around her finger tightly, his tear soaked cheeks now forming a smile. 

Eira smiled sadly, stroking his face. "I love you, Zathrian. I wish I could've saved you, my beautiful child.", she hugged him with one arm now, eyes closed. 

Her eyes suddenly became blank. "But you are not my baby", she spat, impaling the sword into its small body. The baby released a blood curdling scream, writhing and crying. Eiras eyes were wide, blank. 

Ornstein physically paled. The baby was screeching terribly now. She stood to her feet slowly, it's body turning to dust. Her face depicted pure rage. "Don't you ever use my child against me again, you fucking miscreation." 

Eira ran at Manus swiftly, sword raised. She ignored each illusion, such as her mother and siblings, and kept her eyes trained on the beast. Manus roared angrily, smashing his fists into the ground around her. She dodged, and ran up his arm. 

Manus jolted at her sudden dexterity, flailing around and madly trying to pull her off. Drawing her sword back, she screamed and forced it into his eyes. The monster screamed and thrashed. "You like that? Have some more.", she stabbed her Uchigatana repeatedly into its eyes. 

Ornstein ran up its opposite arm, gripping his spear and smashing it through its skull. The beast roared and writhed, frantically slamming into the chasms walls to throw them off.

Its abyssal magic worked in throwing Ornstein off and onto the ground, for his soul could not resists such darkness. Eira remained above him, hand gripping his horn. Her hair had fallen out of its rope, silver locks sprawling around her. 

With a cry, she formed a chaos fireball within her hand, forcing it into its head. The blackened skin began to melt disgustingly, and Eira then gripped her sword, forcing her way through its skull. The beast did not relent, but neither did she. Casting a magic she hasn't used in centuries, her hand began to darken considerably as powerful, sprite-like orbs of magic appeared around her. 

Manus' eyes widened and he growled angrily, reaching up to grip her. Eira produced a whip made of fire in both her hands as black orbs surrounded her being, slashing the fire whips onto his fists and holding him in place. He roared, thrashing furiously.

Eira shook her head, eyes alight with hatred and glee. "You will die today, Manus. To a human, no less. Fuck you.", she spat, and with a roar, her dark magic smashed into the hole in his head, her Uchigatana following shortly after.

All was silent for a mere second, and then a gigantic explosion occurred from Manus' head. Brain, blood and abyssal liquid flung from his body as he slumped into a mushy heap upon the floor.

The tendrils around Ornstein disappeared, the whispers in his soul ceasing. He rose to his feet and gaped at the sight ahead of him. Manus head had completely imploded, and Eira was no where in sight. 

"Eira!?", Ornstein ran towards the corpse. As though on cue, a fist smashed through the sludge of his head, and then a body rose. Eira was covered in chunks of brain and teeth, her entire body oozing with thick bouts of blood and black sludge. Her hair was completely black and red.

Eira crawled from the mass of flesh, coughing and spitting upon the ground. She bared herself on hands and knees, breathing harshly. Ornstein was at her side in a moment. "Eira, you..You slayed him. Alone, no less.", his own voice was foreign to him, for it was full of shock. 

The only reply he received was whimpering. She lifted her face, eyes clenched shut. He pulled her to her feet, and did not let go. "I know it was an illusion, but harming my child like that, it...", she trailed off, weeping freely. 

Ornstein merely nodded, and guided her to a small rock to sit upon. "You are strong, Eira. Most people would not have been able to do that.", he remarked, patting her shoulder.

She nodded. "Yes, my boy is long gone. The one I saw was only a mere fragment of a memory that Manus had produced. I'm just glad the bastards dead", she scoffed. 

It had hurt, more than words can describe when she saw her little baby standing there. It was a true memory used against her. She shook her head, at least her child did not have to see this awful world.

"Let's return to the bonfire in the sanctuary, Ornstein. I'm in desperate need of another bath", she gestured to the chunks of flesh falling from her body. Ornstein nodded. "Likewise."

Along with Manus' soul and Dusk, who they found curled up on the floor, they returned to Elizabeth in the sanctuary, who happily took Dusk into her safety.


	14. Coping Mechanism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month later, Eira devotes all of her time to her work, seeing little of anybody, let alone Ornstein. Though, peculiarly, he seems to disappear just as often as her.
> 
> A glorious day of venturing the castle leads Eira to the majestic, golden themed baths, surely fit for God's. Tension begins to rise when the clear notions of being watched become evident. 
> 
> A moment of retelling of one's old tales leads to Ornstein feeling unusually sour. But there is something he forgot.
> 
> Eira had heard him speak a name. A name, which surely the Knight visits often. She'd discover this hidden person soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snake boi

A month had passed since their arrival to Anor Londo, and in that time Eira mostly wrote chapters upon chapters of her findings. At this point, her knowledge was so vast that it could not be sectioned to one mere book. 

She had her main piece of work, the historical book, which she updated frequently, drawing pictures in detail to remember her travels. Other books consisted of spells, pyromancy and miracles, religion, and light and dark theories in general. 

Her room consisted of mainly books - her work, items, souls and humanity were neatly placed along a desk. Multiple pages of importance were torn out of old books and placed upon another table, an attempt to try and form a chronological timeline very apparent by the smudged ink linking copious amounts of pages from across the table. 

On her nightdesk sat a pile of books she had intended on reading, notable ones being books about Oolacile, the history of the four knights, architecture and a peculiar interest of hers - Gwyns children.

Of course, writing wasnt all she did in a month. She had honed her skills with dark magic once again. After her fight with Manus, the urge to use dark magic once more was just too tempting. Additionally, her pyromancy had improved significantly since her last acid injury, and now she even mixed the two types of sorcery. 

Though, what has really consumed her time lately is art. She would spend hours in her own head, her own land, and upon blinking, she'd realise that she had drawn something. As of late, her drawings consisted of dragons and miracles, the sunlight warrior symbol on each painting.

But recently, her hands drew her memories. She drew her son, her old home, her old friends and family. She drew the Great Swamp where she had learned pyromancy, she drew an awful lot. It was her form of venting, she supposed. Painting the images was her favourite part, the colours could symbolise so much. 

Her favourite out of them all, the one that conveyed the most, was void of colour. It was a barren land, grey and mystical, with hints of embers in the distance, dancing brightly. She dare not dwell on the image, though. It gave her too much time to think about the fate of the world.

Eira sighed, fingers aching as she had gripped the quill in her hand for far too long. Dropping the item, she flexed her fingers which cracked in response. She felt restless, her eyes hurt from too much reading, and her mind was overflowing far too much. Raising to her feet stiffly, she threw on her black cloak, and left the room in search for Ornstein. 

In truth, they hadn't seen each other often. On the rare occasion, he would voice his concerns, tell her that she had become withdrawn since the events in Oolacile, and each time she'd ignore him. It was true. The pain, confrontation, mental draining and horrific trauma of witnessing her child as an illusion had taken its toll, not to mention Artorias and Solaires death.

She had withdrawn considerably, rarely talking if at all, and when she did, it was always about her work. The situation between them had not been addressed, and Eira was glad of that. She couldn't risk her walls collapsing again. Her mind physically would not allow the subject to linger in her thoughts. 

In fact, now that she thought about it, Ornsteins worry had increased considerably. He seemed to have distaste towards dark sorceries, and would always watch on nervously when she had practiced it. She couldn't blame him, delving into such a dark art would not come without consequence, such as her hair colour changing all those years ago.

Of course, she was not evil like many dark sorcerers were, but the power was devastating. In her long lifetime, Eira wanted to be able to learn dark and light forms of magic, mixing the two.

Deeply in thought, she barely registered that she had entered the training grounds until a cool breeze hit her face. Rapidly climbing onto a relatively low roof, she sat atop the building, gazing out at the horizon. Beyond the mountain lay Firelink Shrine, and Eira wondered how Rhea, the firekeeper and Laurentius were doing. In fact, she hadnt visited in at least two months or more. 

She longed for nostalgia, friendship. Perhaps now would be a prime time to ask Rhea, Laurentius and Logan about various types of magic. She had grown weary of Anor Londo. Though, it was her fault, really. She hadn't stepped foot outside her room or the library for weeks.

She didn't even know what Ornstein got up to. He'd disappear for days sometimes, but she had the feeling he was closeby. She never dared to venture, however. Though recently, especially at night, she had the feeling that she was being watched by someone. Someone who wasn't Ornstein. If this were true, she'd find out soon enough.

She wondered just how long it had been since she saw him. Anor Londo was his home of course, perhaps he was visiting whatever knights were left, if any. Shrugging and dismissing the thought, Eira gazed at the sky. It was sunset now, deep orange hues mixing with red, almost like a sunlight warrior invader. 

She smiled. Yes, she would visit her friends tomorrow, and retire to her room for now. Or, perhaps, to bathe. She hadn't seen the bathing rooms yet, apparently they were grand. She'd go there first, then. 

Returning from the outside training grounds, Eira whirled through a multitude of corridors, happening upon many she has never seen before. Most were dark and cold, eerily silent. They were clean enough, though, surprisingly. Following the small inscriptions upon the wall, she read the old English fairly easily and was directed to the bathhouse. 

And it was grand, indeed. The bath was a large lake, practically, with little ledges and steps to sit on. The exterior was lined with gold, and though the bath appeared to be outside, it was sheltered very well by beautiful glass with depictions of the Gods upon it. 

It was warm, very warm, as though the water itself were charmed. Perhaps it was, because on closer inspection, it glowed white. She'd find out, she guessed. The far end of the room held shelves of folded towels, they were relatively dusty, so Eira chose the towel at the bottom of the pile, one that hasn't seen dust. 

She was in awe at the softness of the fabric. Truly, everything about the room was amazing. She had grown up bathing in rivers of men and women, drying off with simple rags. Even when she did live with her family in a little cottage, bathing was no easier. A small, tin bath was all they had, barely able to fit into it. 

If this is what every knight received, then what did Ornstein and the four knights receive? Surely something far more grand. He was the captain, he must've been gifted luxury. Well, he deserved it, she supposed. Slaying dragons for a living was no easy task.

Freeing herself of her armour, she placed it neatly to the side, and soon began lifting her tunic above her head. Clad in a simple cloth for a bra, which wrapped around her breasts snugly, the width of it very limited to only her chest size, she then began pulling off her large boots.

Until a noise stopped her. One would think the sound was merely herself, but upon stopping, the room was now eerily silent. Too silent. In mere cloth now, much like the immodest attire man eater Mildred wore, she slowly kneeled and retrieved her Uchigatana. Naked or not, she'd slay whoever dares intrude. 

She narrowed her eyes. The door to the bathhouse which she had closed, was now open by the tiniest crack. So they were watching her. Holding her sword firmly, she ran silently to the door, pushing it open. No one was there. 

Gazing down each end of the corridor, Eira slowly began to turn back to the bathhouse, only to swiftly backstep and dodge a slice to the throat, barely. A woman stood before her, clad in priestess clothing, all white, though chainmail was evident beneath it. In her hands were two twin daggers. 

"Leave this place, do not defile it with your humanity", she spat, despite the fact that her voice appeared soft. Hanging at her waist was a vicious mace, and Eira made a point to remember that. The woman's face was covered by a simple hood tinged with gold, and she appeared fairly tall. 

"You choose to ignore me? Hah, you are hollowing already.", she mocked with a petty, sickly sweet tone of voice. The woman's eyes raked over Eiras form with distaste. "You have many scars. I will not underestimate you.", she spoke wisely. 

Suddenly, Eira was crouched, running towards her with lightning speed. With a cry, the priestess raised her daggers and deflected Eiras attack. Eira moved with the deflect, sliding down the woman's blade and finally rolling, slicing her leg with the tip of her blade. 

The woman grunted, but did not falter. Swiftly turning during Eiras roll, she barely managed to cut across her waist, causing Eira to hiss at the direct contact. She was practically naked, and had a major disadvantage. She'd need to calculate her every move. 

The woman's attacks were firm and graceful, though very predictable. Her twin blades would often cut at her in a routine. Growling, Eira backstepped and then lunged forward, feigning an attack. The woman instantly crossed her blades into a guard stance, falling for Eiras feign. Eira smirked. Side stepping swiftly, she cut a straight line up the woman's hip and ribs. 

The priestess growled through clenched teeth, gripping her waist and staggering backwards. "Vile human, I will cleanse your existence!", she screeched, hand moving to her hip to grip her blood rusted mace.

Eira didn't give her a chance to, however. Leaping, she jumped onto the woman with her full body weight, forcing her to the ground, on her back. The mace clattered to the floor. "Who are you? Why are you within these walls?", Eira spat, knees piercing into the woman's arms, holding her down. 

The woman's hood had fallen down, revealing blonde hair and baby blue eyes. She glared up at Eira menacingly. "Excuse me? Anor Londo is my home, hollow.", she hooked a leg around Eira, forcing her to the ground and climbing atop her. A sunlight spear began to form in her hand. "Find peace.", she hissed, aiming the spell at her face.

Eira brought her knees to her chest, feet against the woman's stomach and threw her roughly over her head. The woman was on her feet in an instant, the two women staring each other down.

The priestess hand crackled with lightning, while Eiras hand wooshed loudly with fire. In an instant, sunlight spears and fireballs were thrown viciously, the sound of walls and items smashing emitting loudly throughout the palace. 

The woman seethed now, massive sunlight spears forming in her hands as she threw them relentlessly. With a cry, Eira forced her hands to the ground, erecting pillars of fire within the vicinity. The priestess gasped, her back hit by the monstrous fire, and jumped back with a pant. 

Shouting, the two women ran towards each other, lightning emitting within the priestess palm while Eira formed chaos fireballs in her own. They had each other by the throat, hands of magic inching closer to each others faces. 

Eira scoffed and kneed the woman in the stomach. She hurled forward from impact and Eira swiftly punched her in the nose. The tall woman fell, throwing a spear at her as she hit the ground. Eira cried out in surprise and collapsed to her knees, the lightning searing into her hip.

The two womens head snapped to the side as the door was smashed through, lightning crackling around a golden spear. The priestess gasped. "Sir Ornstein!?", she was on her feet in an instant, blood cascading down her nose. 

Eira rose to her feet, her undergarments ripped and ruined. She did not care, she merely turned her nose up to the priestess. Ornstein physically faltered for a moment. "Ava? Why are you not with master Gwyndolin?" 

The priestess was down on one knee in front of him respectfully. "I suspected an intruder, Sir. This hollow has lurked too far from their grave.", she hissed. The priestess blue eyes narrowed at Eiras nonchalance, her arms folded and posture slouched slightly, causing Ava to growl. "You would do well to bow in the presence of a legend, fiend. Or have you no respect? Most likely not." 

Eiras face was the epitome of murder, a fire whip forming in her hands. "Pardon? You wish to act like a loyal dog, I'll treat you like one." The whip lashed at her side with a deafening crack. Ava stood to her feet, mace gripped. With a sneer, She ran at Eira once more.

The whip latched around Avas wrist tightly, tugging her to the ground. "My, you're no fighter, are you? Bowing suits you well.", Eira mocked sweetly, smiling. The woman cried out from the burn of the whip, and gripped Eiras ankles. Slamming her to the ground, she held her dagger to her throat. "I will end you!" 

Eira used the momentum to sit atop the woman now, forcing the woman's blade into her own face.

"Enough!", boomed a deep voice. Eira was suddenly lifted by the waist by strong arms and dropped to the ground. The golden knight helped the priestess from the floor gently. "You are both sorely mistaken. Neither of you are intruders. Eira, this is Ava, a guard and house maiden to the castle. Ava, Eira is now a woman I protect, as ordered by Gwynevere herself."

His tone was stern, leaving no room for argument. The priestess glare dropped in an instant, her eyebrows dipping with confusion and then regret at her actions. "She's.. not an invader? I'm sorry, Sir Ornstein.", she bowed her head low, shame evident in her voice. "Forgive me, if you will." 

Ornstein patted her shoulder. "Of course. No serious damage was caused, at the very least. You will remain in your area of the castle, I will explain the situation to you soon enough.", he spoke with finality. With a polite bow, the woman scurried off. 

The sound of armoured, light footsteps soon grew quieter, until silence permeated the air. Ornstein frowned in thought. He shouldve warned the women beforehand, it was foolish of him not to. What's more, he should probably tell Eira about Gwyndolin. No doubt she would ween it out of him.

Coming to, he glanced over at the woman, who hissed in pain. His eyes widened. She was in mere undergarments, ripped ones, no less. Her entire body was bared, muscle and softness visible at his angle. Scars littered her body, some small, some big. Her legs were incredibly toned, yet she retained her womanly curves and softness, too. In fact, she was far curvier than would be apparent in her typical attire.

Currently, her body was side on, a horrific scar visibly peaking out from her cloth on her chest. "Is that the scar? The scar I gave you?", he walked over slowly, absentmindedly touching the skin of her ribs gently. 

The woman flinched, breath hitching. He tilted his head, surely the pain was gone by now? The scar was horrific indeed, but it had faded immensely. His gaze lifted to her face, a red tinge evident on her cheeks as her gaze was cast away from him. 

Why was she-- Oh.

Her cloth upon her chest had ripped down the middle promiscuously. Coughing awkwardly, the knight averted his emerald eyes to her face. He would've turned his back, but she began talking.

"Yes, that's the scar you caused. It looks horrendous.", she sighed, arms wrapping around her body protectively. Was he staring at her? She couldn't tell. His silence gave her anxiety, an odd feeling of butterflies in her stomach.

Blinking rapidly, her eyes were back to his helmet, only to realise that it had been directed at her the whole time. Her face reddened further, a crimson hue across her pale cheeks. Ornstein blinked. She appeared innocent for a moment, and small. He'd be lying if he said his emerald eyes didn't gaze across her whole form at least once. 

He heard her huff. "Do you intend to ogle me all day!?", her voice became comically high pitched, embarrassment evident in her face. His back slowly turned to her, her face brightening further at hearing a quiet chuckle. Was he amused by this!? "I'm in such a compromising state because i wished to bathe!", she defended strongly. 

Yet he continued to chuckle. It was incredibly out of his character, which caught her off guard even more. It made her flush and stutter in ways she never had before. "If you are a respectful knight you will cease your laughing!"

His deep laughs came to a stop, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "Of course. I'll meet you in the library. Please, for your sake, wear something modest when we next meet.", he teased, and promptly left.

Eira gasped. What did he mean by that? Shaking her head, she stripped of her cloth and sat in the bath. Turns out, the water had healing remedies within it.

Sighing, the woman dipped her head beneath the water, washing her long silver locks. She'd compose herself before she faced Ornstein.

\-----------------

The knight was in the library, sitting upon a large, wooden stool. One leg crossed over the other, ankle to knee, and his gauntlets appeared to sit on the table beside him, bearing pale, large hands with a peculiar, golden ring on the middle finger. Within his hands sat his spear and a cloth, wiping the bloodied mess from its smooth surface. 

Upon Eiras arrival, She appeared to be wearing a simple, form fitting black cleric garb, her long hair damp and gliding down her back. She quirked a brow. "I take it we had unwanted visitors?", she nodded to the spear. Ornstein grunted nonchalantly, as though the situation was barely a challenge. Setting his weapon aside, he watched her sit on the chair opposite him.

She folded her arms. "That woman.", she stated in a clipped tone. Ornstein sighed. "As I've stated, her name is Ava. She has been here for some time.".

"She bows at your feet."

"As did most in my time."

Eira pursed her lips, legs crossing comfortably. "I suppose I forget that you are, indeed, a legendary being of sorts."

"Titles mean little. All is forgotten in due time."

Eira smiled. "Ah, that's where you're wrong. I'm writing a book, remember? One day I will employ people to write it for me."

Ornstein chuckled. "Oh? How so?"

Eira hummed for a moment, eyes igniting with determination. "I've had followers before, I'm sure i can get them again. I'm a natural leader of sorts", she winked, "in many situations, I've led. Whether they be small or considerable. Perhaps I'm rebellious? I do enjoy rallying groups", she spoke innocently with a smirk. 

Ornstein rolled his eyes, leaning back in the chair. "Yes, I have witnessed that first-hand. I assume you have many stories?"

Eira raised her brows. "Oh, the Dragonslayer wishes to hear a tale?"

He shrugged lazily. "I am likely partnered with you for years. I suppose I better hear them now", his tone was sarcastic, but Eira could sense playfulness beneath it and a genuine curiosity. 

She hummed once more, a hand to her chin. She often didnt wear a helmet or mask anymore. "From which part in my life, that is the difficult question. Thousands of years of memories is certainly a hard selection." 

"Ah, I've got just the one. Quite some time ago, I told you that i was sent off to the far East, forced to marry a prince. Well, the story continues. Of course, I had to find my way back across a large ocean and vast land. I did not do it alone. I happened upon a strange, coastal town for a while. Time is convoluted, and for a while I truly believed I was in the future."

Ornstein leaned forward comfortably, the thought of the future interesting him. "I believe I was, for many did not even know Gwyns name. I did not meddle with their knowledge, however. I happened upon many people who were less than friendly, though one stood out. His name escapes me, but he was strong. A deserter, I believe. I travelled with him for some time."

Ornstein began to inspect his weapon. "A deserter?"

Eira nodded. "He deserted an army of knights, I believe. On asking why, he merely stated he wished to hone his blade in dangerous lands, and not dabble in a war he cares little for. In fact, he cared little for the values and virtues of a knight, claiming to not care for the innocent."

Ornstein frowned beneath his helmet, slowly placing his weapon upon the table. "He deserted during the middle of a war? That is treason. I assume he was not a pleasant fellow?" 

Eira waved him off lightly and grunted. "He wasn't that bad. A murderer, yes, but he was helpful.", she noticed Ornsteins pause, "Yes, an actual murderer of surviving humans. Apparently, an odd man helped him escape prison, only to betray him. The man held a vicious vengeance, indeed."

"A danger to most, I'd imagine. You befriended this man, despite his convictions?"

Eira shrugged. "I did. The land was treacherous, we had little supplies, and I was not undead, meaning I needed food to function, which we had little of. His bloodthirst allowed us to survive. He protected me, never once harmed me. Once I reached this contintent, we parted ways."

Ornstein made a disapproving sound. "If such a man set foot in Lordran, I would have been notified."

Eira shook her head. "He hides, lurks within the shadows, as I did at one point. He was..morbid and brutal, but our friendship seemed just fine. He trained me to use my axe correctly. I quite liked him", she smiled giddily.

Ornstein blinked. "You..took a fancy to a mass murderer, a deserter and a brutal pillager?" 

Eiras eyes merely softened more, a gentle sigh escaping her lips, a noise of acknowledgement escaping her throat. "He was a charmer, and his sense of humour was downright dark and crude!", she giggled, hand moving to stifle the girlish sound. 

Ornstein had moved to the couch now, leaning against the plush cushion comfortably, with Eira to his side. That damned stool was far too uncomfortable. His tone became stern. "You are foolish, and odd.", he paused, "Very odd. One would think you are a follower of sin, considering the stories you have." 

"I'm not, if its any consolation to you. I can't help who I like." She folded her arms with a huff. "The wanderer was very blunt, stating that romance is not something his life of murder has made room for, but he is willing to leave me with a parting gift.", Eiras face became dreamy for a second, deep in memory, until a barely visible dust of pink coloured her cheeks.

Ornstein cocked his head. "A parting gift?", he hesitated, though upon her expression he understood now. "Ah, that type of gift. You are terribly magnetized to dangerous, erratic, or downright evil men, are you not?", he scoffed. 

Her eyelashes fluttered for a moment. "I like people with worthy titles. It means they are interesting people. Why lay with a man named Smough when you can lay with a man named royal executioner smough?"

She held a tone of voice which suggested she was satisfied in proving her point, and then paused, dumbfounded. " That was a horrendous example. Absolutely horrific. I do not wish to sleep with him, I swear!", she began to laugh at her own incredulous comment. 

Ornstein coughed a laugh in shock, shaking his head. "In my many millennia of life, never have i heard a human proclaim such desire for the executioner. How grotesque.", his chuckle was deep and smooth. 

It made Eira think. "He's not really that fat, is he? Surely not..?"

Ornstein shook his head. "The opposite, in fact. He is..brutish looking, though his mass of muscle is impressive, even for me to admit. Very stocky and muscular, he is able to crack heads open with his palms." 

Eira quirked a brow, and shivered. "So he's got quite the body beneath that armour, then? Pity I can't approach him without him feeding on my flesh." 

Ornstein stilled uncomfortably and huffed, head turned to the window. " Of course you'd think in such vile ways. Do not approach him, Eira. If I am not there, then...", he trailed off. He soon breathed a humourless chuckle. "How absurd, thinking of the brute in such a way."

Eira raised her brows innocently, gazing down at her fingernails. "Twas only a joke, Ornstein. Do i detect jealousy?", a small smirk teased the corners of her lips. 

Ornstein exhaled a scoff. "Pardon? You're sorely mistaken if you believe I am envious of your unsettling appetite." 

"Any man has the confidence of a God when a helmet is their shield.", she spoke sweetly, grinning deviously now. At his apparent sourness, she rolled her eyes. "Take a joke, would you? Anyhow, I will resume my work. Do tell your little guard to steer clear of me, I have little time for confrontation." 

She smiled brightly, and he merely grunted with irritation. Taking her leave, she headed for her room.

She had kept a secret to herself. Ornstein mentioned the name Gwyndolin to that guard, Ava. Within the morn, she would be sure to sneak around and find out just who he was.


	15. Amiability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ornstein ponders perhaps a little too much on Eiras spoken story from the day prior. He supposed the oddity of settling with dangerous men just didn't sit well with him. 
> 
> A walk did him good. With Eira holing herself up in her room, it gave the Captain plenty of time to check on the hidden God, Gwyndolin, and his loyal darkmoons.
> 
> If only it were an idyllic day. That plan was shot to ruins upon smelling the sweet scent of cakes and a familiar, clumy clatter of cutlery alongside a laughing God. 
> 
> Ornstein didn't really know how to..feel about this.
> 
> He left the two to delve into Eiras unusual but humorous memories. It appears the woman was just as much of a menace back then as she is now.
> 
> Regardless, their dallying comes to an end. Eira knows she must venture back out into the world. She had the faint, unsettling feeling that she'd be confronting a certain golden knight that wasn't Ornstein..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This a bit fluffy. Memories and songs! Not too important, but I had to add Gwyndolin. The song is "step it up Mary". I found it ages ago by accident, its an Irish folk song and I love it so I changed the words to fit the story of dark souls 😌
> 
> I added a lot of memories and backstory mostly to reveal eiras past. She had a rough job ya know. She needed the bread.
> 
> Hope u enjoy 🌟

Dawn settled over the sky serenely, blotches of pink and red merging with the remnants of the night. After much confusion from Gwyndolins blades, the Prince had decided to cast a true illusion governed by time. With little threat, he had no qualms about using a chunk of his power towards the illusion. 

Crimson locks fell down the muscled back of a knight who was currently sat upright, shirtless, as he ritually retrieved his armour and dressed himself. Eira would most likely keep to herself today, as she did on most days. It gave the knight time to check up on the young Lord and the few maids and moon blades that were left. In truth, they were very well hidden. Gwyndolin could not allow his fellow knights to die, or the maids, for he had grown a natural attachment to them.

This was the reason why Ornstein was utterly frozen upon noticing Ava attacking Eira. She was ordered to stay hidden, to remain in the far end of the castle. If Ornstein had not appeared in time, he fears she wouldve died. He knew little of her, but she was a dear asset to Gwyndolin. 

Of course, Ornstein was tasked to remain at Eiras side, but while he was here he'd certainly rid of any intruder who dare step into Anor Londo. Smough could defend the Cathedral alone. The palace was mostly safe, for it was practically death if an undead should attempt to bypass the silver knights.

Standing, the towering form of the captain stood clad in the waist and legs of his armour. Muscles rippling with every movement, the male lifted his arms to tie his hair securely and neatly, resuming his dressing until he was covered in gold, the snarl of his lion helm glinting in the early hours of sunlight. 

Gripping his spear, he took off to the far side of the castle. Purposely taking the long way around, he gave himself time to think. Eira hadn't been herself lately, and he wondered when their travels would continue. A longing to find his master had etched itself into his heart, and he knew that he had to accomplish the goal alongside Eira. 

But when? When would she stop hiding herself away, isolating herself for days on end? It mattered little, really, though a part of him ached uncomfortably at her doing so. He supposed they had talked a fair amount yesterday, which was a start.

Dare he say he found himself wanting to.. befriend her, in some sort of way? They had been through a lot, no doubt. They had witnessed each other at their lowest, and he was stuck with her. Surely a level of comfortable, stable civility should have been achieved by now? One moment she was nice, the next she wasn't. 

He grunted. He was the same, in a way. He struggled to perform constant acts of kindness, now again allowing his coldness to seep through. Besides, ever since the incident at Oolacile, he doubted she'd actively want to be civil to him. He had..caused a tremendous amount of grief for her, no doubt. Not directly, but his actions had led to unfortunate events on her part, a thousand years ago.

Yesterday was still a plus. She had conferred with him, at least. Well, despite the fact that it was about a male who was a danger to society, she seemed happy enough. He began to wonder just how many atrocious men she had bedded...

And the comment about men with worthy titles? How typical. Of course she'd attach herself to such people, whether they be good or evil. He scoffed. The men she knew were nothing compared to the men of his time - his knights, his fearless Dragonslayers. Himself.

He hesitated. Was that thought really appropriate? Most likely not, but it's truth still rung through. His title was one of the highest known in existence. He was the captain of the highest ranked knights, the world's best renowned Dragonslayer. It would do her well to remember that sometimes.

Rounding a corner at the far south side of the castle, Ornstein immediately halted his movements at the sound of laughter. It wasn't a sound often heard in these dire times. Heading down a long corridor, he opened the door to a cosy living room which Gwyndolins maids often used.

He stood still.

"Ah, Ornstein, brilliant timing, as always. I quite like the new addition to the castle", the dark sun smiled pleasantly, gesturing to a door beyond the living room, leading to a vast kitchen. "What new addition would that be, my Lord?", he kept his voice even, bowing his head respectfully. The answer was right in front of him.

A clatter of cutlery was heard from the kitchen with a hushed curse. After moments of silence, the door of the kitchen opened, revealing silver hair and a black cloak. What baffled him the most was the food in her hands. "There you go, Gwyndolin. I haven't cooked in ages, I hope you like them! I took your advice and added the honey for an extra sweetness, too", the woman smiled brightly, placing a large platter of cupcakes onto the table.

Gwyndolin offered an incredibly friendly smile in return, Ornstein thought, and delightfully grabbed for a cake. After a few moments of chewing, he clapped his hands excitedly. "Most splendid, Eira! I am thoroughly enjoying the exquisite taste. You revealed that the recipe hails from Astora, yes?"

Eira nodded vibrantly, handing the God a cup of tea. "Indeed. I love to bake, though my life has given me little opportunity to do so. I am pleasantly surprised to find so much ingredients here!", she beamed. 

The two were smiling brightly while the little prince ate the cakes she had provided. With permission, a few maids came over to try the treats, all humming with delight. "Amazing!"

Ornstein was flabbergasted. Was Eira, killer and aloof woman as she was, bonding with a God over cakes? Upon his silent astonishment, Gwyndolin peered over. "You may come in, Ornstein. Please, sit.", he gestured. The knight bowed and sat at the table stiffly. 

Gwyndolin sipped his tea gracefully, glancing over to the knight. "Yes, I very much like this human. She certainly brightens the place. How very fortunate that you are tasked with helping her along her journey. I was wondering when you'd introduce us, but she took the time to do it herself.", his tone was smooth and gentle, a soft chastise hidden somewhere at not having met her sooner.

Eira glanced over to Ornstein, stifling a snort. She could tell he was now glaring at her. "In a mere day, you have found the hidden God of this palace, bonded with him and baked him..cakes.", he trailed off slowly, as though he didn't believe his own words.

Eira nodded. "Yeah, want a cake?", she pushed the plate over, only to have him huff and reject it. Shrugging, the woman dropped the plate in front of the young God with a smile. "Enjoy, Gwyndolin."

Ornstein frowned. "Have you no manners?", he hissed. Gwyndolin waved his hands dismissively, mouth full. "Nonsense. I very much respect Eira, titles are not needed. Same to you, Ornstein." 

The knight fell silent. Eira gazed quizzically at the empty tea cup Gwyndolin had placed down, watching it fill up on its own. Her face must've been a picture, for a passing maid giggled. "Our Lord specialises in the moons magic, Lady. He is a master of illusion".

Eira blinked. Really, now? Upon her confusion, Gwyndolin smiled. "It's true. I can form illusions of anything. Care to test this theory?", he challenged, pleasantly surprised at her eager challenge in return. Eira hummed, "Show me an image of myself from, let's say..when I was a young adolescent."

With a flicker and shimmer of light itself, a much younger, youthful Eira was displayed before them. Her hair was blonde, eyes a baby blue. She wore a simple maidens dress, lilac in colour, her hands clasped in front of her nervously. The present time Eira jumped to her feet, walking towards her past self. " it's me..? It's me!", she laughed in disbelief. 

Her younger self gazed at Eira innocently. Ornstein scoffed. "This is you? How times change. You almost appear pleasant back then.", Eira rolled her eyes at the comment. Gwyndolin smiled. "Indeed, much has changed, has it not? Your memories are..interesting. I would be happy to cast more for you."

Eira blinked. He could show her anything? That's means he could see everything in her head..

Gwyndolin chuckled, as though knowing her thoughts. "Do not worry. I will not venture into your private memories, unless permitted.". Eira nodded with a relieved sigh. Thinking long and hard, her face suddenly split into utter humour. "I've got the perfect memory! I've been wishing to see this for some time."

Gwyndolin tilted his head and waited. Suddenly, his own face portrayed humour. "Ah, you have permitted me to see that memory. Amusing, indeed. One moment". Conjuring up his illusion, Eira and Ornstein watched.

In front of them stood a tall male, for a human at least, clad in Astoran knights armour with his arms respectfully behind his back. His face was stern, hair a messy blonde. Despite his stoic form, one could easily tell it was a facade, and that he was young, perhaps 18. He appeared to be speaking in front of a large crowd, thanking a lady for her invitation.

"That's my youngest brother. He's speaking to my cousin about her wedding.", Eira whispered, barely containing her laughter. Gwyndolin himself began snorting, for he knew what was to come.

The man continued to speak to a group of drunkards, thanking them and wishing the happy couple a brilliant life. Suddenly, a shorter blonde, perhaps 21, sneaked behind him clad in a beautiful, baby pink dress. 

Ornstein raised a brow. That was most definitely Eira, but what was she doing? 

The young Eira ran at her brother now, swooping down low. "Should've wore a belt!", she shouted. The stoic, young knights trousers came down in one tug, but what Eira didn't realise is that she gripped his underwear too. Now, the poor boy stood in absolutely nothing to cover himself, face bright red and eyes teary. He ran off the stage, tripping over his trousers around his ankles. 

To Ornsteins left, there was a powerful wheeze, and upon looking, Eira was bright red, desperately trying to inhale air as she shook with laughter. The woman was hunched over, gripping the edge of the table and shaking with silent laughter. 

Gwyndolin held a hand to his mouth, stifling as much noise as possible. Alas, he couldn't, and ended up laughing along with her. Suddenly her hand out stretched, "What happens next is even better", she snorted loudly and unpleasantly, giggling madly.

Ornstein felt amusement bubbling at her display, but refused to show it. Dragging herself over to Ornstein with hands on the table, she gripped his shoulder. "Watch what my mother does!", she bit her lip, holding her breathe.

In front of them, a stout woman, dark haired and beyond angry, marched onto the stage and grabbed the young Eira by the arm. "Terrible, terrible girl! The poor boys bits were out!", she screeched in utter seriousness. The crowd erupted into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. 

The mother had to drag young Eira off stage, for at that point she had collapsed to her knees, holding between her legs tightly as she screamed with laughter. Turning from the display, Ornstein and Gwyndolin peered at the present time Eira, and just like the memory, she clutched herself firmly around the middle, giggling madly.

Ornstein couldn't help but chuckle loudly, shaking his head. "That is incredibly evil. How did he react later?"

Eira calmed herself, erupting into chuckles now and again, but for the most part she was calm. Returning to her seat, she giggled. "He cried. A knight of Astora CRIED.", both of her hands were on her mouth now. 

Ornstein couldn't help it. At that revelation, laughter forced it's way from his mouth. Composing himself, he sighed softly. "You are a terrible sibling, Eira."

Eira nodded. "He was annoying. I got along well with my older brother, but not him. Alas, I do not know where any of my siblings are. He detested me, so I have no pictures of the two of us, only one picture of my two other siblings."

Gwyndolin nodded, "Well, I cannot blame him for resenting you, Eira." He giggled softly. "You are very amusing, indeed. I thoroughly enjoy your entertainment".

Eira smiled brightly. "Well, I was an entertainer at one point in my life.". The god quirked a brow at that, positively inquisitive. "Oh? Do you permit me to see such memories?". Eira nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! But mister prude over there might not like it.", she murmured slyly. 

The Dragonslayer huffed. "I am more than capable of witnessing it, Eira.". Smiling, the God plucked a random memory, and conjured up an illusion.

\--The pub was filled to the brim with typical drunkards, nervous men and eager couples looking for fun. Ahead of them, directly from the entrance, was a group of small, round tables, dark brown and sticky with alcohol. Even further sat a stage the entire width of the room, torches dimly lighting the area. 

Upon the stage sat two women, a harp and a lute in their hands. They were clad in what appeared to be a tight fitted, black corset dress. Men began to roar loudly, few reaching out to caress the womens legs, only to be kicked away. Suddenly, a blonde haired woman, merely 22 years old, stepped onto stage. Her hair was braided messily, hanging over one shoulder. She wore a corset much like the other ladies, except hers dipped provocatively in the middle, her dress a dark purple. Her assets were pushed up and on display confidently. 

Almost nonchalantly, she stood at the front of the stage with an air of coolness, men chanting and speaking despicable and light hearted things. (Ornsteins eyes were round at the colourful language the men used towards her) 

Eira swore in return, causing an uproar of laughter at her bluntness. "Which lovely Gentlemen wishes to choose a song?", she cooed deeply, smirking. A man, 45 years of age, shouted a request. Eira breathed a chuckle, "I said lovely, old man.", she retorted. The men merely cheered and roared with surprised amusement. 

Eventually, a tall, handsome male chose a song, smirking at Eira. She happily returned the look with a wink. The women to her side began playing a tune, an upbeat one, and Eira began to sing. Her beautiful voice sang a song: 

"In the village of Astora, there's a maiden young and fair  
Her eyes shine like diamonds, she has long and golden hair  
The horseman he comes riding, riding up to her father's gates  
On a milk-white stallion, he comes at the strike of eight.

I have come to court your daughter, Mary of the golden hair  
I have gold and I have silver, I have goods beyond compare  
I will buy her silks and satin and a gold ring for her hand

She shall have a mansion, she'll have servants to command.

I don't want your gold and silver, I don't want your house and land  
I am going with a soldier, I have promised him my hand  
But the father spoke up sharply: You will do as i command,  
You'll get married on a Sunday and you'll wear that wedding band.

In the village of Astora there's a deep stream flowing by  
On her wedding day at midnight she drowns with her soldier boy  
In the cottage there is music, you can hear her father say:  
Step it out, Mary, my fine daughter, Sunday is your wedding day."

Throughout the song, Eiras voice became comically crestfallen when singing about the woman, while her voice became deep and demanding as she sang about the man. The crowd erupted once more, clapping and laughing at her demonstration of the song. "I'll marry you, golden haired beauty! All the gold i need is in that dress o' yours!", one man shouted from the back of the pub. 

"I'll give you more than just gold and silver, doll!", shouted another voice. Men roared within the pub, highly amused at their innuendos. Eira quirked a brow, arms folding. "I am utterly flattered, but keep dreaming, gentlemen.". Turning, she stepped down from the stage, ready to leave for a break. Many hands gripped her teasingly around the waist and hips. Smiling slyly, the woman slithered away from their many grasps. With a flash, the illusion disappeared just as one male gripped her bottom. ---

Ornstein growled. " They defiled you often? That male at the end, what did he do?", his voice was strained and stern. Gwyndolin shook his head. "That is a private part of her memories, Ornstein. It is not my place to delve into it." 

Turning to Eira, who was dreamily gazing at where the illusion once was, he smiled. "You are quite the entertainer. A beautiful voice, if I may say so. But surely, such a profession must have been difficult with such bawdy men? Humans are truly..mannerless. I am a sheltered being, you see." 

Eira nodded, deeply in thought. "It was fun, it kept food on my table. Some nights were absolutely marvellous, while others were difficult. Some men were too pushy or aggressive. Not many laid hands on me viciously, it was mostly just unwanted touching."

Gwyndolin blinked slowly, head tilting. "Surely not forceful?", he spoke with disbelief. Doing such things amongst gods, entertainment or not, was not tolerated. Eira hesitated, and Ornstein noticed. She scratched the back of her head. "Well, sometimes. It was all part of the job. I had to learn to deal with them, or diverge the conversation and distract them. If I couldn't do that and they were, indeed, forceful..then many of the men would throw them out."

Ornsteins form was stiff. Beneath his helmet, he was scowling. "It is despicable.", he spat. Gwyndolin gazed at him knowingly, though his eyes soon met Eiras. "Did you ever accept their advances? I am merely curious about the nature of humans."

Eira nodded with little embarrassment. "On the rare occasion, yes. If there was a male I was particularly attracted by and he could be trusted, I'd accept his advances." 

Gwyndolin hummed in acknowledgment. "I see. It makes sense, I suppose." Then, as an afterthought, the God added "The song you sung was particularly melancholy towards the end.", he noted.

Eira smiled. "It was. It's about how a young girl is forced into marriage against her will, only to then end her life with her loved one. I despise arranged marriages, I hate old tradition which belittles women.", she rolled her eyes, sighing deeply. 

"Surely your ancient time practised such traditions? I remember well how my mother would tell me that one day a man of wealth would take my hand in marriage. How vile.", she spat with a scoff. "Never, never will I be forced into anything. What good comes from it?", she threw her hands up.

Gwyndolin frowned, appearing to deliberate her opinion. "You speak the truth. However, in a family such as mine, arranged marriages were necessary to form alliances. Dear Gwynevere had been arranged to marry a fellow named Faraam, a God of war. My father naturally believed an alliance to such a powerful God would be useful."

Eira scowled defiantely. "And did she? Did a princess of sunlight agree to such stupid tradition? Did she allow herself to be carried off to some God's bed, her usefulness extending only to how many children she could bare?" 

Ornstein growled at her disrespect, though Gwyndolin remained calm and understanding of her irritation. Smiling, he shook his head. "Your defiance will be sated when i reveal that she did not, in fact, marry Faraam. She married a Flame God, Flann, out of love." 

Eira smiled brightly at the revelation, happy for the princess she barely knew. "Brilliant. Truly, such an affair would have certainly empowered the women of Anor Londo?"

Ornstein released a deep sigh. "Oh, indeed. The amount of futile complaints we had was astounding. I have little care for tradition, truth be told."

Gwyndolin resumed eating cakes. "Have you ever been married, Eira? Or proposed to? I hope you don't mind me asking."

Eira breathed a laugh, cheeks tinging pink for a moment. "I had many propositions in my youth. My grandfather did not approve, he would not allow my parents to send me off to a stranger's bed, 15 years my senior." Her face scrunched up in disgust. "I left home at some point, travelled with a band of people. Some proposed even then, though all in good nature. Ah, there was that time with the Eastern prince.", she muttered.

Gwyndolin blinked. "Beg pardon? An Eastern Prince?"

Eira gazed at the table. "A far away land feared my capabilities. I managed to prevent the execution of a princess, turning the kingdoms people against the royal family. I was caught, and sent to the far East, where a conniving prince awaited me."

Sighing loudly, the woman stood, perhaps restless and tense at the nostalgic emotions flooding her. " Well, I escaped eventually. On my travels back, I had no proposals, though I made many friends. The only person I ever truly loved, wanted a life with, was Ledo."

Gwyndolins expression briefly revealed shock, and he delicately set his tea cup down. "Silver knight Ledo? Goodness, he was certainly highly ranked. Did you marry? I know not what became of him, though the man was known for his sheer strength as a human." 

Eira smiled bitterly, fiddling with books upon a nearby shelf. "I met him in Anor Londo city. We knew each other for a mere 10 years and he proposed. His title of being eccentric speaks truth", she laughed softly, gazing out of the window. 

"We were arguing, actually. That man knew how to piss me off. I whipped around at having no response and there he was, down on one knee, completely ignoring all my complaining."

Gwyndolin chuckled, though his expression held understanding and concern. Eira wasn't looking at them, and Gwyndolin knew the memory hurt her. "I looked at him like he was a madman. I was so angry and yet he had charmed me right off my feet. I slapped him across the face and told him I loved him", she giggled. 

"Goodness, how..uncouth.", Gwyndolin smiled lightly. It wasn't an ideal proposal. "And then..?", he pried curiously. Humans and their emotions were truly fascinating. So very illogical and shrouded, he thought.

Eira had turned to them both now, eyebrow quirked. "Well, I'm sure you can guess the rest. We celebrated our future in less than virtuous ways.

Ornstein groaned. "We understand."

"Pardon?", the dark sun tilted his head. Ornstein huffed loudly. Here we go. Eira smiled, a light dust of pink covering her cheeks. "I..fell pregnant."

The Gods face remained stoic for a moment, before a mischievous smile found his face. "Oh, that type of celebrating. How intriguing. How long does it take for one to fall pregnant?" 

Ornstein gaped. "My Lord, that's not an appropriate question.", his face was painted red beneath his helmet. Ornstein had known the God since he was a child, and even then he often asked inappropriate, odd questions. 

Eiras giggling only increased further. "You are inquisitive, young Lord. When a man loves a woman, I can confirm it certainly does not take long to conceive.", she snorted lightly. 

Eira tilted her head with a sly grin. "You're very curious. Don't you have the power to scour my mind for such memories?", her tone held strong amusement. 

Gwyndolin thought for a moment, deliberating on her comment. He hummed. "True, I do. However, it is morally wrong to divulge into such private territory. Forgive me, I am quite inquisitive. I mean no unjust reasons, for I hold no true desire to partake in the acts."

Ornstein fidgeted uncomfortably. Why did these two have such forward conversations? Eira merely nodded in understanding. "Of course. No God such as yourself would want the information for anything other than education. Do not worry yourself, I am not judging you. An open mind is the best kind." 

Gwyndolins face brightened further. "You have my thanks. I often am at loss for finding certain information.." He trailed off quietly.

"Well, I'm here if you need me. I'm as open as you are, Lord. Now then, let us not make the Dragonslayer any more uncomfortable than he already is. His face is probably as bright as his hair."

Ornstein scoffed, arms folded. Gwyndolin chuckled softly, gazing at his protector. "I have not seen your face in some time, Ornstein. Would you permit me to see you? We are the last of our kind, it brings me comfort to know you are there".

Ornstein hesitated. His voice became softer. "Of course, my Lord. I'm relieved that I bring you such comfort." He was never fond of removing his helmet, even more so now that Eira was here. He sighed. Lifting his hands, he removed the golden lion. 

Piercing, emerald eyes were revealed beneath the lion, no less intimidating than the helmet. His crimson hair was the second most striking feature, tied up neatly with strands framing his face. A strong jaw was visible as he lifted his face to gaze ahead of him, telltale signs of dagger scars across his cheeks. His face remained positively stoic, a natural born leaders face which simply exuded power. 

Eiras blue eyes regarded him, gluing to his features. She hadn't seen him in a while, let alone in the light. His face gave her both unsettling emotions and very ambiguous ones. Memories of their intense confrontation flooded her mind. She had cut his face, he had apologised profusely, she had cried, he had comforted her, she wound up on his lap...

Eyes adjusting from her inner memory, Eira blinked. Her breath choked in her throat as she realised that his penetrating gaze had been on her for a while now. His expression was calm and collected, a storm brewing within the depths of his emerald eyes. Eiras eyes snapped away instantly, now staring at the table and playing with the cloth upon it. She felt nervous. Why?

Gwyndolin grinned. He suspected something odd was going on. Calmly gazing at Ornstein, his lips curled into a genuine smile. "It has been some time, and yet you are no different from when I was a mere child. Thank you for staying even when you are not permitted to. I appreciate it." 

The knights lips twitched, the ghost of a smile dancing along them. "You are family to me, my Lord. I appreciate the sentiment." Leaning back, he firmly brushed a hand through his hair, brushing strands of red back. His helmet was placed upon the table.

"Ornstein, your helmet is damaged below the right eye and the side on the left. Allow me to fix it for you", Ornstein moved to protest, but instantly stopped as the God raised a hand. "Hush, it is the least I can do. I will return it to you in some time.

Ornstein nodded respectfully. "Of course. My thanks.", the knight stood then, graceful and perfect posture. As though on cue, Eira rose beside him with a smile. "We'll be off, then. It was nice meeting you, Gwyndolin. I'll be sure to bring my book Next time, I have much to ask you.", with a carefree wave, the two left.

The two knights walked in relative silence, the clanking of armour being the only source of sound alongside a slight breeze. Glancing to the side, Eira watched Ornstein. His helmet was gone, and now that he was in daylight, he was completely exposed. His face was incredibly neutral, even while walking. Thick, red hair fell down the man's back, and Eira couldn't help but want to..touch it. Run her hands through it.

Shaking her head, the woman walked beside him, or tried to, for his strides were long. Eventually, they appeared in the south side gardens. It's natural, original beauty was mostly gone, though few flowers and trees remained from the maids taking care of them.

Ornsteins thoughts formed a hazy cloud within his mind, a multitude of questions, memories and more pulling him from the present time. Thus, he allowed his feet to follow Eira, for he was paying little attention anyway. Ornstein was particularly delighted at the feeling of fresh air against his face. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in years, not willingly.

The males eyes blinked and readjusted as his feet came to a stop, his form towering above Eira as she had climbed a nearby, tall wall, and now sat perched atop it, her head almost the same height as his own. "Wow, this garden used to be a real beauty. It's a shame so much of it has gone. I remember how beautiful the trees were."

Ornstein frowned, eyebrows dipping low. " Pardon? This garden was for those solely within the palace walls.". He stared at her side on, and she shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Ledo was within the palace walls.", she hummed, eyes casting over to him to gauge his reaction.

He appeared to frown more, as though in thought. And then, just as she hoped, surprise was evident on his masculine face. "He brought you in? That's treason, Eira. Truly, a man merely one rank below myself acting in such a manner."

Eira rolled her eyes. "Stop acting like you own the place, Ornstein. Not everyone has to listen to you."

"I'm the captain. Everyone has to listen to me."

"Oh. I forgot about that."

Ornstein scoffed.

Sighing, the woman could not hold eye contact for long, and promptly stared at the garden ahead. Ornstein seemed to have noticed the shift in the air, his face resuming his typical stoic expression. Arms crossing over his broad chest, the knight leaned against the wall casually, patiently. 

"I assume our travels will resume soon? It has been some time.", the male to her left muttered. Glancing from the corner of her eye, she realised he had a slight dip of his eyebrows, oddly accentuating his masculine features. 

"Soon. In fact, perhaps today. I must visit firelink shrine, an unsettling darkness tugs within me. I fear for Rhea and the firekeeper. Not only that, but something tells me I'll be confronting an embraced knight sometime soon.."

Ornstein hummed. He remembered that golden knight - a sly, conniving fellow, no doubt. During one of his many escapades, Lautrec had slinked over to Eira and bare hands upon her while he was not present. From what he could recall, Eira did very little to stop him. She appeared distressed. Perhaps an unwanted past lingers between them? He'd find out.

"Your concern for the young maiden is justified, I admit. Her clerics are not at all knightly. However, the Firekeeper is another matter. She has bars confining her.", he pointed out.

Glancing to his right, he watched the woman shake her head with a tut, frown forming. "Lautrec would often stare at her from afar, day and night. A couple of iron bars wouldn't stop him from committing atrocious acts."

The knight nodded. Truth be told, he wanted the familiar scenery of the shrine again. It was tranquil, although lonely. Peering into the woman's hands, he realised that she held a bone.

"I have not retrieved my helmet.", he quirked a brow at her impatience. The woman gripped his hand tightly, crushing the bone in her hand. Clearly, she cared little for his armour, and soon the sight of the grassy shrine flooded their blurry vision.

Something was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo Ornstein face reveal IN DAYLIGHT and not within a black cave! I bet he's handsome as hell, Eiras lucky 😌


End file.
